<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:02:02.088-05:00</updated><category term='the notebook'/><category term='expecting'/><category term='dad'/><category term='mistake'/><category term='hard times'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='lonely'/><category term='stress'/><category term='old'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='loss'/><category term='ily'/><category term='missing you'/><category term='college'/><category term='done'/><category term='break'/><category term='hate'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='i love you'/><category term='goodnight'/><category term='happy'/><category term='Goldilocks'/><category term='maury'/><category term='dr phil'/><category term='sex'/><category term='job'/><category term='find'/><category term='atlanta'/><category term='change man'/><category term='cheating'/><category term='anniversary'/><category term='jump off'/><category term='kiss'/><category term='tell'/><category term='sorry'/><category term='fix'/><category term='missed calls'/><category term='failure'/><category term='fear'/><category term='past'/><category term='finished'/><category term='stupid'/><category term='telephone'/><title type='text'>All Grown Up</title><subtitle type='html'>...Learning to drink the lemonade that life makes you fix...one sip at a time.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-639152909707059935</id><published>2009-08-30T21:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:52:25.918-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>An Update!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I know, I know…I haven’t blogged in so long! It’s a shame too, so much has happened in the last few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a new job, love it!&lt;br /&gt;Then my laptop cord died on me and I couldn’t afford a new one…&lt;br /&gt;I lost several family members….hated it! (I will definitely blog about them later on….)&lt;br /&gt;I got my car! And then it died &gt;:-( but now it’s fixed!&lt;br /&gt;My sister informed us a few days ago that she is going to the Coast Guard. wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few months have been a serious rollercoaster of emotions for me, and I haven’t even gotten to Nel yet. Sigh. Actually, nothing has really been going on with us. He is still begging to get back together, and he is also working two jobs, so unfortunately, I get minimum breaks now. Since I am also working with children, I basically get ZERO breaks! That sucks. I went for so long without a car and now that I have one, and on occasion, a few dollars burning my pockets, I can’t leave because my mom watches the kids, so after-hours babysitting earns me a side eye. Just one more example of  something I have to remind Nel about frequently…he still doesn’t understand what it’s like not getting a break from things. Sure, he works two jobs, but if he wanted to save his money up and take a vacation in a few months, he could do that without a second thought. I don’t have that luxury. I can barely pee without the little one knocking on the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what some of you are saying…take those kids, and drop them right off at his house and keep it moving. don’t get me wrong…that thought crosses my mind every day. Hell, the last few times he has come up, he hasn’t even stayed overnight, just for a few hours and then went right back home, long enough for me to go grocery shopping or do laundry. yay. what kind of break is that???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that from now on, once a month, he has to take them. Completely. it can be the same weekend every month but dammit I am overdue in the “take care of me” department and I can’t do it when I am looking at these two children every day! I’m single, working, have a car, I deserve to enjoy life. I don’t know how he is going to feel about it but frankly, I am not concerned. I know he has two jobs but one is on weekdays only so he can tell the other job that once a month they have to shove it. NOT MY PROBLEM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well. there are other things going on in my wacky, wonderful life. I promise to get them updated soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-639152909707059935?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/639152909707059935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=639152909707059935' title='43 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/639152909707059935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/639152909707059935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/08/update.html' title='An Update!'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>43</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8779768603703984995</id><published>2009-06-24T21:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T22:05:17.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet Me Halfway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmph&lt;/span&gt;. so i gotta car. it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; the BMW i dreamed of, but its decent transportation and i got a complete STEAL so who's complaining? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'll&lt;/span&gt; tell you who: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;if i hear one more time about "when are you going to bring the kids to see me?" i am gonna cut someone. i think he still has the undying dream that we are a "family" and that if i bring the girls down, there's no way &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to just come back home. boy does he have another thing coming. I understand that for the past year, any and all visiting has been him coming down here. HOWEVER, with my current job situation, i cant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gallivant&lt;/span&gt; all over Virginia so he can play daddy for the day. besides that, i need a damn BREAK. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not taking the kids down there so he can watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; on the couch while i chase after them! NO SIR! i can stay HOME and do that shit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;am i wrong? is it time for me to step up and start running them up and down the road more?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8779768603703984995?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8779768603703984995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8779768603703984995' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8779768603703984995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8779768603703984995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/06/meet-me-halfway.html' title='Meet Me Halfway'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-552398814912719862</id><published>2009-06-23T22:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T22:22:44.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten People I Hate: a Throwback</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Posted April 2008&lt;br /&gt;Ten people i hate...are you one of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are ten people i hate. please tell me you are not one of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Mrs. walks-too-slowly-across-the-street-at-walmart...is there lead in your a**? i was nice enough to let you cross in front of me, why can't you move faster??? This aint Maymont, no strolling. Move it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Mr. picks-his-nose-at-the-stop-light...dude, unless you are in the back of a limo, WE CAN ALL SEE YOU. please, use a kleenex. or at least a leftover napkin from Quiznos. save your gold mining for somewhere less public. its gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Mrs. doesnt-discipline-her-kids-in-public...aka Mrs. whispering softly to Bobby to please get out the floor next to produce and i promise ill buy you a happy meal and two toys...this is all very simple. hand + a** = being able to go in public and not look like a crappy parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Mr. i-cant-decide-what-to-order-at-the-McDonalds-drivethru. unless you are from a remote island in indiginous Peru, you know what a Mcdonalds is. for those 7 people, Mcdonalds has basically three things. Beef, fries, and etc. really, just pick a number 1 thru 10, and say "with a coke" and you will probably be okay. dont make me get out the car...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Mrs. WELCOME-TO-WACHOVIA-WOULD-YOUR-CHILD-LIKE-A-LOLLIPOP???... lady, she didnt even realize you had them until three loud seconds ago. now, if i say yes, i have to find wrappers and sticks for the next six months, and clean sticky handprints off my back windows. not to mention the hyperactivity. if i say no, i have to hear whining. its a catch 22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Mr. doesnt-hold-the-door-for-ANYONE... you sir, are an a**. i have met you at every possible establishment. dont pretend you dont see me struggling with two children, a diaper bag and a stroller. one of these days you are going to catch me after a sleepless night and im gonna let you have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Mrs. loud-private-cell-phone-conversation-in-the-checkout-line...wow. this has been a very informative 3 minutes in line behind you. not only does your sisters ex lovers cousin have an std, he hasnt come out the closet and he just bought a new honda. throw in the fact that you are totally fixing Aunt Trudys pot roast for dinner, and you owe me about ten minutes of my life back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. mr/mrs international-bill-collector/telemarketer. hm. yeah, um, Sprint? in the future, i will totally need someone WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH FLUENTLY to handle my issues. please do not connect me to an Indian person named Lisa. (Lisa? really? thats your birth name? i think not.) and nnnnooooooooo. i dont need somebody from New Dheli telling me about vacation packages. i swear the next one to call is gonna get a speech about bills and why 6 nights in Jamaica aint gonna pay them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. mr or mrs whoever-controls-the-gas-prices. your a** is mines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mr and miss I-HATE-MY-JOB-SO-I AM-GONNA-COMPLAIN-LOUDLY-ABOUT-IT-IN-FRONT-OF-MY-CUSTOMER. usually in their teenaged years, this species seems to be concentrated in my local Walmart. this animal can change right in front of your eyes, usually into the elusive I-CANT-WAIT-TO-GET-OFF-IN-TEN-MINUTES, or even the I-GOT-OFF-HALF-AN-HOUR-AGO-WHY-ISNT-MY-REPLACEMENT-HERE-YET. look, i hate coming into walmart as much as you hate working here, so i know how you feel. i understand that half your co-workers didnt bring their hungover a**es in today. i also understand you are one of the 3 cashiers open at 5:30 in the afternoon on a Saturday when there are 30 other lanes. but please, work with me. you ring up my trash bags, $5.00 gallon of milk, and wine coolers, and i wont tell your boss that you "was totally 'bout to walk up out dis b*tch". see? im easy to get along with!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honorable mentions: Ms. doesnt-fill-my-cup-all-the-way-at-the-Wendys-drivethru, mrs. mispronounces-my-name-LOUDLY-in-the-doctors-office-waiting-room, Mr. talks-to-me-like-a-child-when-i-get-my-oil-changed, and ex-President Bush.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-552398814912719862?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/552398814912719862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=552398814912719862' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/552398814912719862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/552398814912719862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/06/ten-people-i-hate-throwback.html' title='Ten People I Hate: a Throwback'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-7485634649823613001</id><published>2009-06-07T10:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T11:40:21.057-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Don't Get a Thank You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sooo&lt;/span&gt;. it appears &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; is super extra pissed at me because i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; thank him for giving me the money that i require to get a car so i can get a job. Let me start at the beginning...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; left in July. i decided then that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; be that "evil baby mama" and let him just do right, or at least i would give him the chance first. although he is unreliable as hell at times, i figured i would give the opportunity to act responsibly without getting the courts involved, because they are ruthless as hell and him getting locked up behind some child support does me NO good..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;anyway, i got little sprinkles of money for a few months. and i mean sprinkles. my parents got heated (and still are!) because while he was down there "getting his things together" i was up here living rent free at my parents house. They felt that he should be at least paying me enough for me to help out around here, and they are right. two kids use a lot of water/electricity! i asked him if he finally had things in order so that i could start getting steady, decent amounts. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not being unreasonable, i just want to take care of the baby, because diapers are not free, and i have been selling half my belongings on eBay just so i can purchase things for her. THAT IS NOT RIGHT...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;he had the nerve to tell me that after paying his brother for staying with him,  paying his car note, and paying his insurance, he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; have any extra money, and that what he did have left over, he put in his gas tank and came to see the girls. I. WENT. OFF. Extra? you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have any EXTRA?? i very sweetly let him know that if i took him to court, that "extra" would be the first thing coming out of his check every 2 weeks! your child support &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; EXTRA MONEY. it is a necessity and i cant function when you are being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;trifling&lt;/span&gt;! i even suggested he stop visiting as much. YES i told him to cut back on his trips. all he would do is show up with stuff, park on my moms couch, turn on dads digital cable on the big screen downstairs, and then send the baby to me when she needs to be changed...Then he would head to sleep, stay on the couch til noon, repeat, and then go home. that is a damn vacation. all that was missing is the mini-bar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;true, i was not working, what else is new? does anyone have a job these days? i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; getting called back even for really minor jobs so whatever he gave me was what i had, and he was QUICK to tell me maybe i needed to get a job as if i was NOT trying...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;anyway, back to the original topic. once tax time came around, he said he would "totally break me off" since i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;hadnt&lt;/span&gt; really gotten much from him for a while. and by much, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; thinking maybe $150 total over several months. he promised about $1500 to me so i could get a car, because all my savings/eBay funds have been going towards paying my parents for things and picking up his slack. as time went by, it eventually dwindled to $1200. yeah, i was pissed, but it was better than what i had been getting. i got my first installment a few weeks ago so i knew he still owed me 1k, and yesterday was going to be payday, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;he came in with $500. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; understand what was going on...i figured we were gonna get this whole payment thing taken care of for good so i could tally up how much i had and make some moves. i asked him when i would get the rest of it and he said in 2 weeks. i asked him why i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; just get the entire amount and he said if it was THAT big of a deal, he would go get it then. (really? if you had it why not just give it to me???) i told him with a bit of attitude not to worry about it, just get to me whenever it was convenient for him. he left, got the rest, and threw it on the desk where i was sitting. i let that little disrespect slide...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;well i get a text saying "you could have said thank you" or whatever. so i told him i did thank him for the flowers (yep. he brought flowers for me.) and the cherry set (long story, but extra cute) but he was mainly concerned about the money. the next text said "its the f*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;cking&lt;/span&gt; point of it all, u act like i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; do sh*t. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; worry about it, how many b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;tches&lt;/span&gt; get money like that at one time? its all good, i see how you truly are."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;after i laughed (which took a good while to get over, because i thought that was hilarious), i sent him a text back basically saying i "got it all at once" because he OWED me that money. duh. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; flatter yourself *sigh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;and let me just say to anyone male or female who is paying support in any kind of way...what i do with that money or what the other parent does with that money? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;DONT&lt;/span&gt; WORRY ABOUT IT. he said i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; going to use the money for the baby, i was going to get a car, which i had to remind him would take me to a job that would in turn pay for things for the baby...!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;when my dad was a probation officer, he spent a ton of time in juvenile court. he said he constantly heard how the non custodial parent (usually dad) would complain to the judge about how the custodial parent (usually the mom) would take the CS money and use it for her car note, rent, gas money, insurance, etc. and how it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; going towards the child. time after time, the judge would remind the paying parent that rent must be paid to shelter the child, gas and a car note enabled the other parent to drive to work and make the rest of the money to support the child. THEN you had the paying parents who said "she is using my money for her hair/nails/etc." and the judge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; care. matter of fact, they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; care even if they were smoking that money up! if the child was getting taken care of and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; starving, abused, etc, then the courts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; interfere. i know it seems wrong on a few levels, but if i take the money that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; gives me and buy an ice sculpture just to watch it melt in the sun, then so be it. because every other dollar i get benefits her and that little $75 he scrapes up for me is not going to be stressing me once i start work! it goes back to what i said a few posts back about being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;independent&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not budgeting around him. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; doing it around myself so that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have these problems.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;anyway, he called me this morning, fussed about me being ungrateful, and then hung up on me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;havent&lt;/span&gt; heard anything since! and at this point, i really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; care! I have some cars to research online...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-7485634649823613001?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/7485634649823613001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=7485634649823613001' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7485634649823613001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7485634649823613001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-dont-get-thank-you.html' title='You Don&apos;t Get a Thank You'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4456165845185062841</id><published>2009-05-29T09:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T09:26:38.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Re: to Letter from Nel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i cant believe you would say i didnt want to work things out. you have no idea how many nights i have prayed that things would work themselves out with us. i have talked to people that have my best interest as well as yours at heart...i am in this 100% now, i have a child with you that now has me linked with your family, who i care sooo much about you wouldnt believe it. nobody can deny that i love you, not even you. i never imagined things would get to this point, but i cant be like this anymore. i cant have doubts. i cant be sad. i cant feel lonely even with you there. i know you see me as being just cold about this, but with all i have had going on i dont have a choice. i can either just break down completely or hold it back. i cant afford to break down right now. i have to fight thru everything im feeling and deal with it later on.this back and forth isnt good for me. the up and down and left and right is making me sick. i need stability. i need something in my life that is dependable and steady and i dont have to worry about it. this shit was seriously making me physically ill, stomach aches and my weight and hormones are all over the place over it. i wish things were the way they used to be so long ago but i just cant deal with it anymore...im being pulled in three different directions and i just cant...i dont know why you dont get this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4456165845185062841?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4456165845185062841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4456165845185062841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4456165845185062841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4456165845185062841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-re-to-letter-from-nel.html' title='In Re: to Letter from Nel'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3440871369065992272</id><published>2009-05-29T09:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T09:25:29.459-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fix'/><title type='text'>Letter from Nel...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i know theres not much that can make u trust me again, sorry 4 what i have put u thru the last year...i am willing 2 do anything and everything so u can trust me again... i dont care how long its going 2 take, whatever i have 2 do i will do it. u deserve a better man and a father of your childern.... we have been through so much 2gether and i dont want us 2 end our relationship like this... there is no other woman in this world 4 me but you Sadiqua, i love u so much i cant explain it.. i am madly in love with u.. i know i have made a lot of mistakes in the past, and i know i have a funny way of showing it but i realize what i have lost and i didnt want 2 lose u.. i need u in my life and i dont know what i will do without you. i know it doesnt change anything but i had 2 say this 2 you... Nel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3440871369065992272?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3440871369065992272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3440871369065992272' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3440871369065992272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3440871369065992272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/05/letter-from-nel.html' title='Letter from Nel...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-7112179725033046876</id><published>2009-05-28T00:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T00:29:19.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Throwback: Lunchtime!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i will bet you didnt know that i have a sense of humor, unless you talk to me on a regular basis. it appears some of my readers think im a serious, reserved, stick in the mud. that couldnt be further from the truth. so to prove it, im gonna post a few funny things that i did last year. they still ring true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;march 21 2008&lt;br /&gt;today, i decided to be a nice mommy and eat lunch with Ariana at school. i had SEVERAL reservations about this, starting with her demanding attitude about what i could and could not bring her to eat. since when has a happy meal been out of fashion?? unfortunately for her, she didnt get her $7 KFC meal...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i try to stay out of elementary schools. they are germ Wal-marts. any disease, from the flu, to mad cow, to MRSA is probably lurking on the snotty, unwashed hand of a first grader, and trust and believe, that hand is touching your child’s hand. and notebook. and pencil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i arrived, i had to sign in similar to the way you enter Fort Knox. Computers, name tags, urine sample, i mean seriously, nobody wants my child but me, and on a good day...anyway, after procuring my name tag, i sat at a table marked "guest table" in the back. correct me if im wrong, but when I had a parent come to eat, they got to eat with me at the class table. now, you eat at what is fondly referred to in my family as the "exile table". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the kindergarteners were eating their lunch. or, playing with it. im telling you, if the Peace Corp or any other Childrens Methodist/Catholic/Shriners organization begging for ten cents a day saw the SHEER WASTE OF FOOD IN THERE....i was appalled. seriously parents, unless you’ve got that really greedy kid who eats everything all the time, you are wasting money sending lunch money to school. and those Lunchables that they beg for in Food Lion until they are blue in the face? i think more got thrown away than eaten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also noticed, as the first graders were filing in, a lot of girls had bought salads. not slightly chubby girls, or girls who havent burned off that really cute baby fat, but girls that NEEDED a slice of the deep fried crap everybody else was marching out with. what 6 year old girl needs a salad and skim milk for lunch? hell, i do. but thats besides the point. parents, teach your girls what a twinkie is. followed by gravy, whole milk, and a salt shaker. teach them to love those dimples, and to save the salads for when she is 26, unmarried, and single.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the "exile table". Ariana was tearing into her Wendy’s, while the other 4 mothers with kids at the table were discussing something PTA related...on that note. i hate the PTA. i actually went to a meeting at the beginning of LAST year. i was sooo excited, i even dressed for the occasion, like June Cleaver who had managed to feed her child a balanced breakfast, kissed her at the bus stop, cleaned the entire house, and breathlessly floated into the school cafeteria, skin dewy, lip gloss perfect, and jeans crisply pressed. What i got instead was a cafeteria full of haggard, thrown together, 40-something, pre-menopausal women with cheerios still stuck to their sweats and not a stitch of makeup on. the PTA president bounced her 3 year old on her hip, thanked us for coming, swigged out of a Starbucks cup (which im sure had some alcohol in it) and proceeded to tell the women to be "considerate" of the other mothers in the class..."Some of them," she whispered, "even work jobs outside the home!" I looked around, stunned. A woman next to me with a Wachovia name badge on mumbled "Huh?" The women shook their heads in pity, and Ms. Wachovia and i glanced at each other in shock. i wanted to yell, "Darn right i work outside the home! I also know what a 401k is, how to balance a checkbook, and where Ann Taylor Loft is! Im sooo sorry i didnt marry a doctor or lawyer who can work 80 hours a week so that i can stay home dressed in 4 year old maternity clothes and not brush my hair!" So yeah, i didnt join this year. Take that and shove it in your VCR next to Barney, Chick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, lunch. There was the ever-present cafeteria Nazi in place, wearing a cheerful apron full of straws, napkins, and spoons, making her rounds and never really doing anything other than open cartons of milk and packets of ketchup. Every ten seconds she yelled about sending someone to the office. By the time she’d hit about the twelth or thirteenth child, they shrugged her off, knowing she had probably never sent anyone to the office, and never would. really lady, shut up and open this 2%. my dry and poorly cooked lunch is totally stuck in my throat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think my final straw was on my way out after lunch, and i saw a notice for the spring picture date. as i scanned the group of loud, toothless, adrenaline-stricken angels, i realized that it was 11:45am, school had started at 9:30am, and these kids looked like they had been running laps around a high school track. I take time to iron clothes, brush hair, etc., in the mornings. Im also pretty sure that other parents do the same. So why did my child look like a hobo? and why do all YOUR children look like hobo’s too? in a matter of two hours, your child already looks as though the teacher has set up a child labor camp making NIKE’s in the back. what gives? and these same teachers will let these dusty, estranged children take their school pictures like this. is it that hard to say "James, smooth your hair down, sweetie." instead, i think they all sit in the back, sipping on diet Cokes and giggle, "Hey Linda, James is up next. Great call setting up recess for ten minutes ago! Cant wait to see those pics!" With my luck, Ariana will have recess, gym, art, and a fire drill in the rain, right before spring pictures. But, the picture that results, although resembling a celebrity DUI mugshot, will proudly go on our coffee table. So Mrs White, lets try and see if we can get those pictures taken as the kids are getting off the bus, m-kay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did enjoy lunch, even in its loud, germy haze. it gave Ariana and i time to bond. So next time you find yourself eating an overpriced fast food meal at the exile table, smooth down your kids hair, give them a kiss, and shoot a smoldering glare at the PTA president at the next table. you’ll be glad you did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-7112179725033046876?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/7112179725033046876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=7112179725033046876' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7112179725033046876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7112179725033046876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/05/throwback-lunchtime.html' title='Throwback: Lunchtime!'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4674811116349277805</id><published>2009-05-23T22:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T22:14:20.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss Independent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was originally a one part post. Today, I had some events that have made me turn this into a two part post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ne-yo came out with his song Miss Independent, there was this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;uprising&lt;/span&gt; of women wanting to be independent, and an equal amount of men who stated they felt a woman who was “independent” should take of herself totally and not depend on their male counterpart. I think that both can be achieved, but here is why I feel the way I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 19 months of unemployment, I have a job offer that is out of this world. Good pay, great benefits, I already know the people who work there, so there wont be that new-person feeling...the only thing I have to do is get a car. Simple enough, right? Well back before tax season, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; and I agreed that he would give me $1600 out of his return. Its only fair, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; hassled him for any money since he moved down to the beach. I knew he was trying to get his own place and things like that so I played the “nice baby mama” role and handled things myself. Needless to say, now his funds are “thin” and so I had a conversation with him today reminding him that I need my money so that I can get my car. He offered to help me get it, by using my money as a down payment, then financing the rest underneath him...I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DONT&lt;/span&gt; THINK SO. This is where the “independent woman” in me steps in. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want any help from him with this. He owes me the money to begin with for the girls, so I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; consider that help, its a payment. But I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;refuse&lt;/span&gt; to have to continuously hear that he “helped” me. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;havent&lt;/span&gt; told &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; about this job, because god forbid something happen and it falls &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt;, I will NEVER hear the end of it. This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Job&lt;/span&gt; pays enough that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have to depend on him for anything. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; is undependable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I cant live my life around him helping out, I had to go and find a job that covers it all regardless of his ever-changing work situation. Do I consider myself independent? Damn right. And any man should want that out of his woman. When times get tough, u have to make sure she can hold it down, and that is what I am in the process of establishing, my independence. I lived with him for 5 years and shit still went south, so why would I set things up for failure again?? I want to do it all by myself and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, my cousin just left a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt; where the woman is pretty independent. She owns her own house, car, great job, she's got it all! BUT she made the mistake of saying “my man should take care of me”...unfortunately, my cousin saw this as a deal breaker and quit while he felt he was ahead. I understand both sides of this...he sees her house/car combo as “already been taken care of” and that now she is being greedy. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; expect him to pay the house and car notes, she wants to be taken care of in that “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; a queen” manner. To me, every woman deserves that. Just because I can pay my bills &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; mean you cant spoil me in other manners!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; and I. This makes week number 5 where I have been in the house, and any excursion to the “outside world” has involved shots or a shopping cart. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; craving attention and a drink or two...guess who can't get up here? Upon my obvious instant attitude, I was criticized for not appreciating all that he does....Oh really? Sure, he was working two jobs, but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; getting anything. Just because you come up to see us and take us to dinner or whatever, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; cover the bills. I still buy food, pampers, help with my parents bills...i mean, there are three of us and I am living virtually rent free in the scheme of things, so I try and help out the best I can. I took my savings (aka the money from all my belongings I had to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;ebay&lt;/span&gt;) to help out. That was my car money, and because of my lack of outside help, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; a lot lower than I anticipated. Then all of a sudden, he tells me just take the money and do whatever I want to do with it....and it is now conveniently $300 less than before. NOT. HAPPY. This sparked a rather heated argument where I hung the phone up on him and refuse to talk to him unless it involves the girls...where this will go from here? Who knows. My patience is thin, and he is ruining my plans and dipping into my already low supply of sanity...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the theme about this post, besides &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;stressing&lt;/span&gt; about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;todays&lt;/span&gt; events &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;, is that sometimes we have to do for ourselves as ladies. I am craving independence right now like you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; believe, and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; require his validation, support, hell, even his knowledge. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; going to take care of the girls the best I know how to and should he decide to help, well, that would be nice....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4674811116349277805?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4674811116349277805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4674811116349277805' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4674811116349277805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4674811116349277805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/05/miss-independent.html' title='Miss Independent'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8191572460628490026</id><published>2009-05-15T21:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T10:16:45.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What are you willing to sacrifice for the sake of love?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ok so i'm not admitting to nosiness or snooping, but there has still been some contact between Nel and the person we had some issues with a while back. plus, there has been quite the addition of newer names to our phone book...hmmm. i wont even mention the one who had Nasty Girl next to her name. oh wait. i just mentioned her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;so anyway, not that i care about who/what he is doing, but what i dont appreciate is the daily questioning about when im going to come back to him, when im going to move down there where he is, when im going to fix our family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me? this is all on me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Look, since the break up, which was July 4th of last year, i havent met or made any new male friends. i mean i have a few guys i keep contact with over the internet, but they are all in different states and are no threat to anyone. i might go out from time to time, but i havent taken the time out to persue anyone. could i? you are damned right i could. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;back to my original question: what are u willing to sacrifice for the sake of love. are you willing to cut the bullshit out? can you set boundaries and follow them? i dont know if Nel has gotten it yet. of all my male friends, if i had to cut them out so that we could rebuild our relationship, i would do that. well, all except 1 who is more like a brother, but if it called for it, i would back off from him too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;im not seeing that Nel is willing to sacrifice yet. things have been a little bit better, but nowhere near where they need to be. remember that letter i wrote to him a few posts back? ( &lt;a href="http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-wrong-with-you-letter-to-nel.html"&gt;http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-wrong-with-you-letter-to-nel.html&lt;/a&gt; for any new readers...) well it detailed what he needed to work on. he has worked on a few things, his attitude has greatly improved and that was my main issue, but my second issue from the top was his lack of sacrifice. I cant make him sacrifice anything. that is something he has to work on himself but dammit, its a big one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;if he was serious, he would clean that phonebook out of all the "clutter"....aka any unnecessary women. if this relationship is ever going to be repaired, this is the final opportunity to get things back on track. and should i see a continued lack of sacrifice, im not going to even consider trying to fix things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8191572460628490026?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8191572460628490026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8191572460628490026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8191572460628490026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8191572460628490026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/05/sacrifice.html' title='Sacrifice'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4669772259939982520</id><published>2009-04-19T13:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T13:53:39.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Even in Death, Love Prevails</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;im a sucker for a really good romantic story. i dont sit and pine away for my Prince Charming, but i do enjoy true love in its rawest, most exposed form. think &lt;em&gt;The Notebook&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i want to share my fave love story with you. its about two people, Joe and Liz, who fell in love in the 1940's. Joe was the product of a gorgeous but meek wife and an abusive alcoholic father, while Liz's parents were hardworking store owners and farmers. Liz caught Joe's eye in a high school English class, (she was helping kids in his class with their reading skills) and they quickly fell in love.  Unfortunately, Liz's parents weren't too fond of the ultra handsome, ultra suave playboy, and forbid them from seeing each other much. Like any good love story, they did anyway. Liz had three children with Joe, two boys and a girl, and they planned to marry despite what their parents said, but in the end, respect for their parents won out over their love. Despite a few tries at eloping, it never happened...Liz left and went to New York for a while to get away from things, and when she got back, Joe had met someone else. She went on to marry a salesman, and Joe married as well. Both had several children in their marriages, and remained in touch, up until Liz passed at the age of 78.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;now, if u read my blog regularly, u might remember me mentioning my grandmother, Lizzie. she is the object of female attraction in this story, and her childrens father, Joseph, is my mothers father. My mom is that daughter they had while they were together. there is so much more to this story though, there was so much between them that we as a family didnt notice, but its worth talking about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I always knew my grandpa and grandma remained close friends. i always thought that it was a friendly "baby mama/baby daddy" type of relationship, and they lived two miles away from each other, but it was so much deeper than that. over the years, grandpa visited with my grandma several times a week, they would sit and talk for hours. My grandpa's wife learned early in their marriage that he would be friends with my grandmother, and there was pretty much nothing she could do about it. harsh, i know, but she never mistrusted him because he put that out in the open and gave her the choice to stay or not. they went thru a lot together, including burying one of their two sons who passed at the age of 19. when grandma first got sick, he continued to visit with her to support her in any way he could.  when she passed, he didnt come to the funeral...it didnt make sense why until a few weeks later on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my sister went to talk to grandpa after grandma passed, and without asking, he proceeded to tell us what kind of woman she was: an honest, caring, individual, who, despite her undying and unwavering love for my grandpa, didnt step out of her marriage vows and remained faithful to her husband. he also said that she was the only woman he ever truly loved, and he loved her until the day she died. for this to mean something, u have to understand that my grandpa is a big, strapping, old school man, who is in that way of thinking where men dont discuss feelings, they dont say i love you, they dont cry, they are MEN. my sister said he teared up a bit talking about grandma, and then it made sense why he didnt come to the funeral: there was no way he would have made it thru the service. he loved her too much, and watching the love of his life being eulogized wouldnt have been easy on him at all, especially with your wife sitting next to you. it would have been hard to explain! but one thing he did do for her, was to help us with the bills for her service, and he told us whatever it was we wanted for her, to get it and he would pay for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;a few weeks ago, grandpa called and said he hadnt been feeling well, we thought he'd had a stroke, and after being threatened by my mom and her siblings, he finally went to the hospital. my mom, as well as her step mom, thought he might just be moody and sad because of grandmas death, but as it turns out, he had a brain tumor. surgery removed 80% of it, but it was cancerous, so once again, we are faced with the realization that he, too, is dying. not even a year after grandma, her one true love is about to join her, and maybe then they can be together the way it was meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i dont tell this story to be sad, i tell it to make us take advantage of what love we have in our lives, to find friendship in lost loves, to make the most of the past and use it to preserve the future. their love spanned over 60 years and was 110% the entire time...no fighting, no bickering, some regrets, but no bitterness: the way i hope to look back on my lifetime and view things...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i hope that you've found your one true love, and if you haven't, keep your head up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4669772259939982520?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4669772259939982520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4669772259939982520' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4669772259939982520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4669772259939982520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/04/even-in-death-love-prevails.html' title='Even in Death, Love Prevails'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-5485414120670453996</id><published>2009-03-26T16:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T16:22:23.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I forgot to do WHAT?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;after a very interesting weekend, i returned home to a peaceful, quiet, clean home. the girls were still with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; at his parents house an hour away. after a dinner out where we chatted in a friendly fashion, we brought them home, put them to bed and chatted for a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well apparently, he had a lot on his chest. for about ten minutes he fussed at me for not telling him how i was feeling before i broke up with him. as i sat and listened to him, i realized he was kinda right. i never did just sit him down and say "look, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not feeling things, you do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;xyz&lt;/span&gt; and i hate it and i just cant keep on". i simply had an attitude. when i asked him if the attitude clued him in at all, he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;looked&lt;/span&gt; at me like i was crazy and said "are you kidding? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;youve&lt;/span&gt; had an attitude since you lost your job! how am i suppose to tell the difference??"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my dad asked me at the beginning of this entire situation if i had told &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; what the deal was...had i actually sat him down and said what i felt and what he needed to work on. being a woman, i hinted, mentioned, suggested, sugar coated, and assumed....Dad said something to me that i will remember from now on: men have to be TOLD. you cant assume they got it, or sugar coat it. you have to say it as clearly as possible, or else they just wont get it sometimes...and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; what i did. i know now that it was unfair to expect him to change when he had no clue/was unclear what i was unhappy about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;now, does this change my mind about things? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;, no it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt;.  but it did give me a chance to apologize to him for that, and he knows from now on, whatever i feel the need to say, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; going to say it, so there is no excuse later on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-5485414120670453996?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/5485414120670453996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=5485414120670453996' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5485414120670453996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5485414120670453996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-forgot-to-do-what.html' title='I forgot to do WHAT?'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3376321638058239090</id><published>2009-03-20T22:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T22:51:52.219-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='find'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kiss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tell'/><title type='text'>Kiss and Tell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;one of my readers (hi patty!) asked me why i didnt just basically find someone else and let Nel know about, aka kiss and tell lol...i wont lie. its crossed my mind a couple times....let me run a few stories past you, about the guys i mentioned to patty, i call them my fan club.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Valentine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: met him ten years ago, he was a big boy and cute...but when i say sweet as hell? he is the type of guy you take home to mom and she loves him instantly. i remember him bringing me lunch at christmas time when it was extra busy at work and i couldnt get away to eat. at 18 years old he had the insight to do this for me...! over the years, we talked and would lose contact for a year or two, but he "found" me again several months ago and has been in touch with me. he said he wishes he had the chance to go back and snag me when he had the chance so long ago...(and lord knows i wish he had too, it would have saved me a lot of trouble with baby daddy #1. but thats another story.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Angelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: wow. so i went to a party, i think i was 20, and met all the friends out of this group of guys...all of them were extra cute and my damn girlfriends snagged them before me. one of them said, well i've got just the guy for you, im going to go pick him up from work and introduce you two! of course i was nervous, i just knew he had to be the ugly one...but he wasnt, he was as cute as the rest thank goodness. Angelo was an absolutely great guy. we talked for hours that night, and saw each other for several months, he always treated me so special even though he didnt have a lot to spend. after an unlikely breakup, we didnt see each other for years, until he found me on myspace. he has been on a one-man crusade to win me back after all this time lol, he even mailed letters from time to time to my old job telling me he regretted how we split and how he really did love me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;robert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: we have known each other since 6th grade. he was my first "boyfriend", we had our last class of the day together, home ec, drama and keyboarding. Rob was a hardhead, and after 6th grade, his parents shipped him off to military school. fast forward to the first day of marching band practice, a week or so before the start of freshman year. i was in the band room and he walked in with the rest of the football team. it was one of those moments where i couldnt believe who i was seeing after so long...we never hooked up in high school although he did try a couple of times to drop a hint, something was always just off, and i loved him to death as a friend. every time someone saw him that knew me after we graduated, he asked about me...and then he found me on myspace a few months ago (myspace can be amazing for your love life lol) I got the same story from him, always cared a great deal for me, crushed on me all the way thru school, just never got the nerve to carry it any further...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;these three guys consistently appear out the woodwork over the years at the craziest times, drop hints, send me cards, call me, email me, text me...if i really, really, truly wanted to hurt Nel? i&lt;em&gt; have plenty of good guys i could do it with&lt;/em&gt;. guys like him, good looking, with educations and careers and strong feelings for me, ALL THREE OF THESE GUYS HAVE ASKED FOR SECOND CHANCES.... but the fan club has one advantage over him: no drama with me. i just cant bring myself to do it. i sometimes wonder if its coincidental that these three &lt;strong&gt;always&lt;/strong&gt; find me, and always talk about what could have been?? i try not to dwell on that, i dont believe in moving backwards, but striving forward...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;its just kind of hard when the past come and puts themselves in your path.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3376321638058239090?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3376321638058239090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3376321638058239090' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3376321638058239090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3376321638058239090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/giving-him.html' title='Kiss and Tell'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-6092541454944356127</id><published>2009-03-20T22:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T22:19:29.789-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Food for the Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nel just called me up, asked if he could take me out to dinner...let me back up just a bit and give you some info. one thing we have in common is food. i love to eat, he loves to cook, its basically a match made in heaven on that level...but he tends to use it sometimes to "fix me".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;this weekend, i was going to go to DC but instead ran up on a snag, so now i am going to a few biker parties here with a girlfriend of mines and meet up with some people i know. Nel has no clue where im going, who im going with, how long i will be gone: and i like it like that! for the past week or two he has been asking vague questions so he can piece the puzzle together, but you cant trick a trickster, im three steps ahead. last week when he called, he asked was i going to his parents house this weekend. the convo went something like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nel: well im coming down friday or saturday and going to see my parents&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me: okay thats fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nel: so are you going with us?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me: no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nel: why not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me: i have plans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nel: to do what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me: go somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nel: well you cant go with us? i was gonna go down to see them and maybe run to (insert fave soul food restaurant here)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me: (thinking, slick bastard. that buffet is NOT gonna sway me): thanks but i have plans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;by then he was heated...and i was cracking up on my end of the phone. he actually tried to sway me with the offer of a meal at my favorite spot. well played, but not well enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;back to todays invite. he wants to take me out to eat. i told him i would think about it, but in a tone that said "i really dont think its happening" and not "i will lead him on for a while and then say yes"...and he picked up on it. he asked could we just start over again, and i told him that i cant. i simply can NOT start over at this point. he said he misses spending time with me...and i told him that when i ended things i KNEW he wouldnt be seeing me. thats the point, right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i think i hurt his feelings, he said i dont have to go to dinner but if i change my mind, just let him know. i hate to hear him sound so damn...&lt;strong&gt;pitiful&lt;/strong&gt;, but he will be okay...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-6092541454944356127?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/6092541454944356127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=6092541454944356127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6092541454944356127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6092541454944356127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/food-for-soul.html' title='Food for the Soul'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4643100055850360519</id><published>2009-03-12T22:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:21:29.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First you love me, now you hate me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mom and i took the girls out to eat yesterday. as we were sitting at our table, this really handsome guy came in and sat his little boy down at the table. he was dressed nicely, coming from work probably, very well spoken...and had on a wedding ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as he interacted with his son who was about two or so, i just looked at them. at first i felt blank. it was just a guy and his son eating dinner. but then i started to watch the guy. when his phone rang, he smiled as he glanced at the caller id and answered, "Hi honey!" He proceeded to tell her that he had gotten him from the sitter early and was giving her an evening off to do something for herself...from where i was sitting she sounded grateful and excited, and as he hung the phone off, he told her he loved her, and i could tell from the look on his face that it was sincere. as the tears welled up in my eyes a bit, i laughed to myself...what was so funny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fact that within a year or so, he could end up despising her so much that he wishes he never met her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nobody thinks about that when they get into a relationship. anyone who watches Dr. Phil or Maury has probably had the realization that these angry, bitter couples who would love to see their exes suffer in agony, were actually in love at one point. IN LOVE...they rushed home to see them after a long day at work, watched them sleep at night, called just to say i love you...and then overnight, it vanished. obviously, they probably had some warning signs, but who pays attention to them? we are told that relationships are work, and when the major problems occur, instead of running away, we try and work on things, and inevitably repair what might not need to be fixed...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4643100055850360519?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4643100055850360519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4643100055850360519' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4643100055850360519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4643100055850360519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/first-you-love-me-now-you-hate-me.html' title='First you love me, now you hate me'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-1048470197107153630</id><published>2009-03-05T23:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:22:15.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Irritated</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm on the phone with Nel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night he asked me "where we went wrong"...say what? so i cut and pasted the last post and emailed it to him....now i am going thru a "conversation" about how i'm keeping the kids from him...really? i have to ask for you to cough up money for Niecy? i dont meet you halfway? well since i have no car thats kinda hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then we are back to the "why havent you moved down here" conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE I DONT WANT TO...and that excuse leads you to believe i have found someone else...ctfu! dude, the only guy i see more than my DAD is my older white-bread neighbor Mr. Taylor....and he is waaaay past his expiration date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i have "turned into that woman that people talk shit about"...hahahHAAAAAAAA! really? it makes me soo happy that my name is coming out of peoples mouths...your family and friends know me better than you think, please dont underestimate their intellect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally, he asks "so you are seriously done with us?" because APPARENTLY i havent made that clear enough. the letter, the conversations, the texts...me saying (and i quote) i dont want to be with you...im getting very irritated now. im tired of discussing this. im tired of the fussing and fighting, i am so over this that i feel like im back at the very beginning. and now supposedly i need to grow up....?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;had i known this was going to occur years ago, i might have left the very first time we had issues and left it at that. i knew when i got pregnant that things were not going to be the same with us and here we are, just like your average divorced/separated/broken up baby mama and baby daddy...fussing over the trivial things that life has to offer and getting absolutely nowhere. I dont appreciate having to day dream about the past before my child was born and how different things were....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-1048470197107153630?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/1048470197107153630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=1048470197107153630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1048470197107153630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1048470197107153630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/irritated.html' title='Irritated'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-1071220249737851458</id><published>2009-03-04T01:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:22:32.463-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dr phil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='done'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finished'/><title type='text'>What's Wrong With YOU: letter to Nel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, you want to know whats wrong with you? uncut, uncensored? be warned, i may hurt feelings but you want to know, so here u go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are a good guy. let me put that out there front and center. there are so many things i didnt have to worry about in a relationship with you, like beatings or felonies or not having a job. but there is so much more to this than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom, my dad, my sisters, my girlfriends, YOUR parents, YOUR siblings, YOUR friends...have all mentioned how you talk to me. thats right, that smart azz loud mouth of yours. does it ever occur to you how loud you are? apparently not, because i have heard for years, "you really shouldnt let him talk to you like that"...i think ive heard the word DISRESPECTFUL, BLUNT and COARSE used several times. of course, nobody mentions this to you, but i have to hear it over and over again. you cuss at me, not only in private, but in front of OTHER PEOPLE...and im not talking about kidding or playing around, just disrespectful tones/words/attitudes. and yes, i am to blame for poppin off at the mouth back at you, but i have since learned it does no good and you are just rude. you have anger issues and it has been expressed to me several times by people that they disapproved of your attitude and thought i should leave you...yes, that is right, some of the people you know and love have told me to leave over the years because of that but love is blind...lord knows that is the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you have to learn by example: if what you are doing isnt working, you try something else that is working for someone else. you have so many good examples of men in your life, your dad, uncles, brother, friends, cousins, my dad and family...why is it that you dont try to emulate any of them? good strong black men are so hard to find and you are surrounded by them but dont follow some of their best teachings and examples. calm temperments and christian lifestyles can go a long way. im not judging completely because i just started going back to church full time and its done a world of good for me. you need to do the same thing. i dont care if its baptist or whatever. something with Jesus as the main focus and the bible as the scripture and you are on your way. i am doing my best and i pray for you all the time. i am never specific because i dont know what needs to be done in your life, only god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have said this til i was blue in the face and i will say it once more: you, under no circumstances, are to never throw the status/location/relationship of Ari's sperm donor in my damn face again. ever. you play that good guy role and take care of her and claim her when u are around, but u make little comments like, i do more than her real daddy, or , yeah lets see what your boy does for her when he gets home. you seem to love bringing this up when we are slam in the middle of an arguement that has ZERO to do with her or her no good azz daddy. i know he aint shit, but why you feel the need to use him to boost yourself up in my eyes? damn right i said it. YOU USE HIM AS A BOOST. just because he has been replaced in her eyes by you doesnt mean that shit will work with me, telling me how wonderful u are and how he hasnt done anything. by comparison yes, you look like a saint. but he is none of your business and i refuse to have him shoved in my face. i did things without him and can continue on that same path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are needy. needy as in, do this, do that...i broke you out of some of that nonsense over the years, but you still insist on me being some form of servant. YOU are not my husband, therefore there is no submitting to you. i blame myself for letting you get away with it for so long but i know better now. seriously, you act so needy sometimes that i wonder if you can do things on your own. i know, you probably said Hell yes i can do anything without you...but can you really? even split up you are still calling me and asking me to do favors for you. GROW UP. i have 2 children but when you get to whining like them i feel like i have 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my daddy told me that &lt;strong&gt;men dont change because women want them to &lt;/strong&gt;and it was the best advice i have ever gotten from him. but seriously you have to listen to what women say and see if there is room for change in your life! i never asked you to change, mainly because it would have been a complete waste of time, but you should have known what needed to be WORKED ON. dont change or do a half azzed attempt because of me. do it for yourself. my only concern was making you a better man for our family. why would i sabotage that? any suggestion/hint i made was out of love and concern but you saw it as "changing" you...well fine. if you want to be only half the man i think you can be, suit yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you made me not tell you anything. i cant stand having old, non-important bullshit thrown up in my face. from the money u put down towards my car to the rent u paid alone while i was on maternity leave, give it a break. thats why i didnt tell you shit. my bill was late? id rather pay late fees than hear your mouth two years from now reminding me about how you paid it for me. that is why i handled things on my own. you call it "Independant" and i say thank you. you never learned to let things stay in the past that are not relevant to the present or future. sure, i would bring up the suspected cheating/lying when it resurfaced, but it was relevant to where i needed to go and what i needed to do in life. the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior and thanks, but no thanks. i had quite enough of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH GOODNESS, i hate to have to bring this up, but you have yet to learn the meaning of sacrifice...i have seen you spend money on things that werent important over bills....and not on good or nice things, like a vacation or dinner out. REALLY STUPID THINGS, LIKE BIKE WEEK! you arent concerned with anyone but yourself, and until that happens u arent going to be worth much to anyone. instead of living a dream with your head in the clouds, how about you take care of what should be your number one concern, not a damn bike, or a damn helmet for the bike, or designer sunglasses, or a new chain, or a newer car, or weed: YOUR CHILD. stop putting yourself first and take care of her...this has pissed me off for years, even before Niecy was born. you are so quick to do for yourself. yeah, i know you did a lot for me, but not without being reminded over and over, and not without you running a tab of who has done more for the other one. stop looking at new cars and trying to upgrade all the damn time. nobody cares but you. in the end that is all you are going to have left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe this last thing is just a product of my environment, but i freakin hate being checked up on. i dont mean an occasional text, i mean the several occasions where dozens of phone calls have been made. DOZENS. i prided myself on being that cool girlfriend, the one who doesnt feel the need to check up on you if i havent heard from you. and why should i? what the hell does that stop? you still did your dirt in the end, me calling you did nothing to stop it, matter of fact you were calling her after we hung up. i lived in a house where some days, my daddy didnt call from work to "check" on my grown azz mom. she didnt call bothering him either. why in the hell would i sit and have a conversation on the phone with you at 3pm? what the hell are we gonna talk about later on tonight? my parents gave each other the room that i didnt see myself getting with you. all it ever did was piss me off further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what i want in a man? let me tell you, since you were missing a few qualities: i want a tender, sweet love...one that makes sacrifices for me. one that takes care of home and knows where to go to look for examples. i cant make sacrifices for you and not get them in return...its just not fair...treat me like a LADY. i dont ask to be spoiled, but at least tell me you want to spoil me. basically the opposite of what had been happening. i have grown a lot in six years, most women would in their 20's. you have to learn for that next girl that growth demands change. what works for her now might not work for her ten years down the road...you get out of a relationship what you put into it, so next time you need to dig really deep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-1071220249737851458?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/1071220249737851458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=1071220249737851458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1071220249737851458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1071220249737851458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-wrong-with-you-letter-to-nel.html' title='What&apos;s Wrong With YOU: letter to Nel'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-5398615465034665839</id><published>2009-03-03T23:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:22:49.897-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hate'/><title type='text'>Happily NEVER After: The B'day Chronicles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my birthday in January was a nice one for a change...he treated me to dinner with a group of some of my closest friends. i got to eat and drink as i pleased, i looked great, and had an awesome evening...then when we got home, he wanted some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will admit, i am that girl you have to keep an eye out for in bars...when i drink i get a little fresh and he loves me that way. its the easiest time for him to get some and my inhibitions are nowhere to be found. i said no, i was tired and had those drinks hitting me in the ass and do you know he called me on that shit?? like i owed him for taking me out for my birthday! did i want to sleep with him? of course, but when you throw it in my face that you "earned" it in a sense, my libido is gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to top things off, on his birthday about 2 weeks ago, we all went out as a family. it was after part 1 of our "i dont think this is gonna work" talk and so the conversation was very short and limited to the girls. he had a few drinks, i had a few drinks, and after i got the girls in bed, he jumps on me. tells me that even though he knows i dont wanna be with him (he said with a healthy dose of sarcasm and a laugh!), i should give him some since it was his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so thats how the complete ending occured, or should i say started. i pushed him down on the couch...and left the room. when i came back he tried again but i sat him down and looked at him and said, you arent getting this, are u? he asked what i meant and then the convo kinda went downhill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: look, i tried to explain last weekend that i really dont see things improving and that i dont want to be in a relationship with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: wait, so you were serious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (trying to not get up and choke him) yes i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: man, what the hell. so you mean to tell me after 6 years that you dont want to be with me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: that is exactly what i am trying to say. i have been nice about it for weeks now but you just keep kicking the subject and now i felt i should break it down for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: (blank stare) so youre serious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yes. (at this point he starts to pack his things up.) You dont have to go just because i said that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: im not staying here after you just sat here and told me after all we have been through that you dont want to be with me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: well your main purpose of coming down here SHOULD have been just the kids, and now you want to leave after i say im not sleeping with you? i havent slept with you since Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: (his most crucial mistake of the evening) is there someone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (mad as hell he wants to pull that bullshit) no there isnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel: whatever...(kisses the baby and left)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SWEAR ON EVERYTHING....DO NOT pull that "someone else" mess on me when YOU are the one who started the &lt;strong&gt;entire process&lt;/strong&gt; of this shit failing! you move 2 hours away and ask ME is there someone else? HELL NO THERE ISNT. i sit at home all day with these two girls BY MYSELF, while your carefree azz gets to skip around and be free...Real talk. my bff told me months ago that sex was interfering in what needed to be fixed and she was right. as soon as it gets cut off, you want to trip and act like you have no damn sense. JUST BECAUSE i was sleeping with you does NOT mean things were fixed, right, repaired, okay, getting better, or any other feeling that you came up with. i hate to quote dudes, but IT WAS JUST SEX. and i apologize for my part of the blame that led you on to believe that i was cool with things and i thought they were okay, because they havent been for months....and now i think you see where i am coming from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and i did lunch a day or so after that. he was quiet while i talked and at the end told me that he felt i did the right thing for my situation. whether it will work or not? who knows. only time will tell...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-5398615465034665839?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/5398615465034665839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=5398615465034665839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5398615465034665839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5398615465034665839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/03/happily-never-after-bday-chronicles.html' title='Happily NEVER After: The B&apos;day Chronicles'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-6663310297792334864</id><published>2009-02-23T23:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:23:07.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A man is to respect, serve, and love his own woman...one woman...the same woman. He is to fill her above the brim with respect and love of herself. All that runs over will be his, because if she respects and loves herself, she will respect and love him. --PrettyBoy, on greekchat.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hm. i love that quote. i dont know if its from a philosopher, or a poet, but it rings true in so many ways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as of February 28, i have had to end things with Nel on a permanant note. things werent working and he was oblivious. i asked him did he think things were getting better and he said yes. YES??? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ladies (and gents) if you experience any of these warning signs, its time to split.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. you notice your attitude plunge southward when he comes around. i became uberbitch when he appeared and he was constantly asking why i was being so rude? it was because his very presence pissed me off. why? i dont know. and that is what is so scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. you just dont give a shit about anything to do with your appearance. at all. get my hair done? why? change out of pajamas? get real...in my mind it got to the point where i didnt feel i needed to get cute for him even though we hadnt seen each other for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. he comes, you leave. i would have thought this was obvious with him. despite the fact that i get NO BREAK being mommy during the week, i made sure i was MIA when he got here...club? bar? didnt matter. i would get sexy and sit at walmart if i had to, but i had to make it seem that i would and could get someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those are just a few of the things i noticed about myself, they may or may not pertain to you but be careful about number 1...its a doozy and i realized how nasty i was to everyone when he got here! im sure there are other signs that i might not have had but i sure did notice these three and now that he is not my concern, my life has lightened up a bit...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-6663310297792334864?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/6663310297792334864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=6663310297792334864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6663310297792334864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6663310297792334864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/02/woman.html' title='Woman'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-9009906480076113162</id><published>2009-02-07T13:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:23:25.377-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Long...for now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;so you probably wanna know about last week, and our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;convo&lt;/span&gt; about putting a halt to trying to work things out. and i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; blame you, so here is some clarification.&lt;br /&gt;first off, when i said i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; wanna move down there because i just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt;...that is it. i just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt;. there is no hidden reason. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not running down there behind you, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; what i would be doing, because i have nothing else down there to go for.&lt;br /&gt;you have to admit, that whole text message thing threw us off, but all it did was separate us long enough to take a look at things and see if they needed to continue. well, i guess you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; take time to think while we had a break. you have to realize, when u drive a wedge between us, it gives me time to think...u have to be willing to accept what i discover during that time.&lt;br /&gt;why ON EARTH would you mention marriage? two years ago when i mentioned it, i got an hour long lecture about how i was "pressuring you". and then, just last week, u had the nerve to tell me i was doing what all your friends said i would do when we got married. so whats changed your mind? are you now willing to accept my changes and how things might be? i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; believe it.&lt;br /&gt;i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want you to think that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; love you anymore, or i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; like you. i just cant be with you. maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt;, maybe its temporary. but right this second, i want to be by myself. we have done a lot of growing in the past 6 years, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;arent&lt;/span&gt; the same people anymore, you need to realize that just like i did not too long ago. we have different goals now. i want to be on my own. because of circumstances in my life, i have never had a chance to do things for myself and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; what i want! we both still have a lot of growing up to do...take this time and figure out what you really want, because that is what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; doing too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-9009906480076113162?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/9009906480076113162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=9009906480076113162' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9009906480076113162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9009906480076113162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-longfor-now.html' title='So Long...for now?'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-2598399601957537398</id><published>2009-01-27T22:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T00:26:28.439-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Do...i think...</title><content type='html'>has anyone figured out the whole marriage thing? i heard a woman the other day say, "marriage is a lot of trouble, but its worth it!" say what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess what im trying to say is WHATS ALL THE FUSS ABOUT?????? just to let you know, my parents are not the cause of my sudden dislike for all things matrimonial...they have been together for almost 30 years. thats right, 30 freaking years...a lifetime, basically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you all think? is it worth it? or do you expect to find yourself wishing the other person would leave so you dont have to...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-2598399601957537398?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/2598399601957537398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=2598399601957537398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2598399601957537398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2598399601957537398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-doi-think.html' title='I Do...i think...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-7192212503838612430</id><published>2009-01-25T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T22:43:48.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving On...Maybe Not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; has been up my ass about moving down where he is. i am not in the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forgive me for being blunt, but who in their right mind will volunteer to move back in with someone who was semi-unfaithful, bossy, anal, and job hopping? what the hell is going on! i know its hard for him seeing the girls on the weekend, and he is burning up a lot of gas, blah blah, but that is not my problem. i take care of these two 24/7 so the least he can do is drive up here on the weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not only that, i really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; like it down there. i have friends and some family, but other than that i am severely underwhelmed. tons of traffic, bridges, tunnels, whats to love? i like my life where it is, but i hate where i am living so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; causes him to assume i will move on down and forget all about our troubles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom is a pain. i love her so much but the two of us should not live together. i am messy, she is neat. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; relaxed, she is...not. but i can tolerate this situation as long as i possibly can, because HE IS JUST LIKE HER. you all know about the semi-unfaithfulness, let me fill u in on the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bossy: you name it, he feels he should run it. case closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anal: any person who comes in the house and DOES A WALK &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;THRU&lt;/span&gt; has got to be out their minds. what the hell does he think happened? oh, i know, that ash tray got moved, because you just went and fixed it. i swear, before we stopped living together, i would move stuff around just to see him move it back. that is some majorly annoying shit, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;job hopping: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, while i whole-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;heartedly&lt;/span&gt; agree he keeps a job, he just keeps too many. i understand making money but he has worked i would bet going on 20 jobs since we met. they always "disrespect" him or "overwork" him...i stay at jobs i hate to make ends meet, and i shut up about it until something better comes along. how hard is that? not to mention how many jobs "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt; for him"...really? if they have benefits and a paycheck, whats not to love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basically, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want to leave here and end up like we did last year, on the streets basically. i realize things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;arent&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;anyones&lt;/span&gt; fault, but with me not working and zero prospects in sight, i cant uproot my girls and move an hour away where nobody can help me when i need help...not as shaky as things are with him...i promised myself that awful situation &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; happen again, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not leaving until i can make sure it wont.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-7192212503838612430?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/7192212503838612430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=7192212503838612430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7192212503838612430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/7192212503838612430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2009/01/moving-onmaybe-not.html' title='Moving On...Maybe Not?'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4929519998513942564</id><published>2008-12-31T23:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T00:05:35.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 is dead and gone...</title><content type='html'>it is ten minutes to midnight, December 31, 2008 as i start this entry...i stayed in as usual. i never go out, sometimes we would host a get together but the past few have been relatively quiet. the girls are asleep, and i have already sent out my texts, so it is time for me to do what i do every new years...talk to god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i pray not nearly as often as i should, i try to do it once a day but sometimes i forget. not on purpose, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 has, by far, been the worst year on record for me. i have come out of 2008 with nothing but my health and the girls health. i am truly thankful for that, but what looms is the utter failure and despair that surrounded me the past twelve months. i have lost a grandmother to cancer,  a cousin to gang violence, my car, my apartment, my relationship with Nel, basically everything. and not only am i saddened, but im mad too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me is furious that i have found myself in this situation with two children. they dont ask for much except to be taken care of, and i havent done that good of a job this year. i am also mad that i cant just give up. deep down, im mad at the girls for giving me a reason to hold steadfast and not collapse like i want to. if it werent for them, who knows where i would be, or what i would be doing, but i know for certain it would have involved giving in to the desire to forfeit in this game we call LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im mad at grandma for leaving, but only a little bit. her death showed me what i can get thru when i put my mind to it, and i do thank her for that. but now i dont have that excuse about death being too difficult for me, because thru her i learned that your love can overcome grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im mad at Nel. if you read this blog often, you know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the fireworks shoot off, i can thankfully say that 2008, is now HISTORY...and i am greatful for the fresh page i get to start writing on this year...now if you will excuse me, God and i have to finish our convo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;much love to you all in 2009!!!&lt;br /&gt;Sadiqua&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4929519998513942564?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4929519998513942564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4929519998513942564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4929519998513942564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4929519998513942564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/12/2008-is-dead-and-gone.html' title='2008 is dead and gone...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-6889052207415149858</id><published>2008-12-02T17:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T17:17:13.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the right direction</title><content type='html'>oh wow, is it December already?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i actually have followers now lol and you are mad i left you hanging...so here is an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still not back together with Nel. we are working diligently on things, and making a bit of progress...he comes almost every weekend to see the girls. i have stopped checking up on him. do i trust him? not necessarily, but i have found that it does no good. all i am going to do is find what im looking for, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he has made it very clear that he wants things to work out between us and im glad he is putting forth an effort. i will admit, we didnt stop sleeping together (sorry!) and i had promised i would work on that...but i didnt. i am glad that we have the sense to keep thing protected though, especially after why we broke up, and the chance of my fertile behind getting knocked up again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niecy turned one, Ari turned eight a week later. his parents and my parents joined us for a wonderful birthday dinner at Olive Garden. he still hadnt told his parents about the split, or so i thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanksgiving day, we went down south to his sisters house. (we are very close, she is like a big sister to me) as people came in, his mom was introducing me to people i hadnt met before...and it went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"this is Nel's girlfriend, well, wait, friend? acquaintance? i dont know, what are you calling yourselves now? She is Niecy's mom, so Nel's friend..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nel and i blinked and just looked at each other...what could we say? i didnt get a chance to ask what was going on, had she found out? all i know is that we were stunned as hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next up, nels going to try and get a place down there...still aint moving as far as im concerned, but its a step in the right direction...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-6889052207415149858?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/6889052207415149858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=6889052207415149858' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6889052207415149858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6889052207415149858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/12/right-direction.html' title='the right direction'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8745869539094803168</id><published>2008-10-25T23:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T23:50:44.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pants On Fire</title><content type='html'>blog i posted elsewhere a while ago...right when all this was starting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate a liar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what exactly is a liar? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;websters&lt;/span&gt; defines a liar as a person who tells lies. and a lie is defined as a story a person tells with the intent of deceiving another person.&lt;br /&gt;wow. that is kinda strong, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; it? to intentionally deceive another person. to go out of your way and be dishonest about something to cover your own a**. okay, so my definition &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; Websters, but its close enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do people lie about that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; completely wrong? plenty. women lie about age and weight. men lie about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; height. we lie when people ask if they look fat in those jeans, or that yes, your mothers dinner was the best you've ever had. in the end, these lies &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; really hurt anyone. nor are they meant to be hurtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but sometimes, you get hit in the face with a lie so blatant and stunning, you blink in shock and wonder when you got "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dumba&lt;/span&gt;**" tattooed on your forehead. that type of lie that makes you nauseous and cold with the realization that the person &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; think enough of you to tell the truth.&lt;br /&gt;are you a liar in training? or want to make sure you are doing it right? here are some rules for lying:&lt;br /&gt;-be prepared to lose something in the process: a friend, family member, relationship, job. the list goes on and on. it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; matter. you can lie about it later.&lt;br /&gt;-if someone asks you IN DETAIL about something, you might want to go on and tell the truth. they probably already know the truth and you will be caught lying. then you have to lie some more.&lt;br /&gt;-most people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want their feelings "spared". they want the truth. damn morals.&lt;br /&gt;-if you know the truth is gonna cost you something anyway, you may as well tell it. why tack "liar" to the list of things you are?&lt;br /&gt;-don't swear on anything when you are lying. god, your moms grave, Mary of Magdalene...nothing. you might have to take that up with someone later on...&lt;br /&gt;-nobody is going to believe a word you say ever again. if you say the sky is blue, people will be peeking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; blinds to make sure.&lt;br /&gt;-once that trust is broken, your chances of ever getting back to that level of trust are slim to none. ouch.&lt;br /&gt;-have your story together before you lie. throw a few "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ah's&lt;/span&gt;" and "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;um's&lt;/span&gt;" in for good measure. you can also repeat the question or rephrase it to buy yourself some time. look up at the ceiling, or down at the floor. fiddle with your hands. better yet, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; do it in person. do it over the phone, that way they cant see you at all!&lt;br /&gt;-if you feel justified in your lie, back that sh*t up! "man up" as they say. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; back down!&lt;br /&gt;-keep a calendar. you are going to want to throw in some dates or time periods to further make your lie seem real.&lt;br /&gt;-if you are caught lying, lie again. and again. then flip the script on the other person. if they are dumb enough, they will change the subject to defend themselves and forget about the web you were weaving...&lt;br /&gt;-become friends with other liars. after a while there may be no family or friends in your life left to hear the bulls*it that come from your lips. but other liars always love to hear your stories about how you squeezed out of that tight situation!&lt;br /&gt;-prepare to be alone. and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; bother apologizing. it wont work. and you are probably lying about the apology too, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; just another list of crap you have to keep track of! follow the KISS rule! (keep it simple, stupid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you been lied to? here is your list of rules...&lt;br /&gt;-CUT. NO. SLACK.&lt;br /&gt;-have consequences. real ones. ones that get your point across.&lt;br /&gt;-never back down. once the liar knows you know they are lying, they will try and shift the blame on you. this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; about you. its about the liar.&lt;br /&gt;-know (most of the people, most of the time) you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;-replace these liars with people who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; lie. once a liar, probably always a liar. at least about the original subject of the lie.&lt;br /&gt;-realize that you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have to accept apologies. i know that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-Christian like. but lets face it. most of the apologies &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;arent&lt;/span&gt; honest. its a way to calm your nerves and make it seem like they have changed and that lie just so happened to fall out their mouths.&lt;br /&gt;-forgive and forget is done on a personal basis. or at least the forget part is. you can forgive if you want to. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; your business and its healthy for your mental state. but if you cant forget, its best you move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope my diatribe (blog for those of you who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;havent&lt;/span&gt; graduated high school or taken your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;SAT's&lt;/span&gt; yet) on lying was informative, and whether you are a liar, been lied to, reformed liar, or contemplating becoming one, you know what to do and how to do it well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those of you who know me well, know that i joke and kid around on a constant basis, and i even joke around in this blog. but i am personally tired of being taken for a fool, and if you find yourself in the same situation, at work, or home, hell, even on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;MySpace&lt;/span&gt;, its time to free yourself from the drama...everything will be alright in the end. if its not alright, its not the end...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8745869539094803168?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8745869539094803168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8745869539094803168' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8745869539094803168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8745869539094803168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/pants-on-fire.html' title='Pants On Fire'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-9143823492003105750</id><published>2008-10-13T00:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T00:30:23.012-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jump off'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goldilocks'/><title type='text'>The Goldilocks Effect</title><content type='html'>well i got out last night. had a great evening with my 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bff's&lt;/span&gt; and another girl who i think will become a friend very easily. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; stayed with the girls. he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; stay out my face before i left, even took time out to pull me aside and tell me to not show my ass. i laughed and told him to get lost. When my girlfriend came to pick me up, i kissed the girls and headed out. he followed me to the door and asked could he get a goodbye hug. once again, i laughed and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides the fact that of course, he managed to text me while i was out, it was a good night. i had a few really good drinks, headed home, and, due to that alcohol-blurred judgement, did the one thing i have said i would NOT do. we had sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was sweet, tender, soft...all the things that i need from him right now. he whispered his regrets in my ear and apologized numerous times. it was high, it was low, it was what i call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Goldilocks&lt;/span&gt; syndrome: everything was "just right"...i have mentioned before that we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have issues in this area. in fact, we make up harder than we fight. i guess we just have a lot of passion together, whether its negative or positive. he brings things out of me that surprise both of us, and i do the same to him. that said, i felt and still feel guilty. there is a level of comfort that we have with each other when it comes to sex, it is so easy to fall back into that trap and forget the reason we were fighting to begin with. it is a major distraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant help but think what might be going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; his mind. "yep, it still works!", "she just USED me!", "i knew she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; keep this nonsense up"...i feel like i went back on what i said in that moment of weakness with him. i still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want him to think things are getting back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is scary though...mom warned me when this all started: if you let him go to do what he wants, he just may do that. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want to be viewed as that safe, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;definite&lt;/span&gt; jump-off, aka his steady, easy to coax booty call. i want him to get things together and work towards a common goal. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; stuck...do i continue to show that weakness around him? or do i tough it out and suffer in the meantime...i really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; know what direction to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cornered him outside when he was leaving and laid one of those long, deep kisses on him. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; know if he was surprised or not, but it took everything in me to pull back. it could have gone a lot further and a lot deeper and this clearly would have been my fault, seeing as there was no alcohol in my system. this would have been a completely sober experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess now my heart is fighting with my head. my heart is desperate to get things back the way they were. my head knows better. i guess the Goldilocks effect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; apparent in this entire situation, but at least the part that has always worked with us still does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-9143823492003105750?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/9143823492003105750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=9143823492003105750' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9143823492003105750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9143823492003105750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/goldilocks-effect.html' title='The Goldilocks Effect'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-5083710502193647399</id><published>2008-10-10T22:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T23:11:51.385-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Loose</title><content type='html'>Nel will be here tomorrow to see the girls. i will be leaving tomorrow night to have a night on the town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i havent had a break in a while. its difficult being with the baby 24-7, and sometimes i need a break badly. i told him when he comes up, be prepared to stay the night, because i dont plan on coming in at a decent hour. i deserve that. he said that all he does is work down there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that, my friends, may be the case. but he has 3 things i dont have: money, a car, and no need for a babysitter, aka freedom. im too worn out to run to Wal-mart in the evenings, let alone fraternize with some of my girlfriends past 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im just tired in general. tired of living at my parents house, tired of being unemployed, tired of doing things alone. i appreciate the help i do get, but the help i am supposed to get? nonexistant. i see now why men leave. coming home to an angry, bitter, attention-starved woman like me would run the most Christian man into his mothers arms. im trying to get better, but it is taking longer than i expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me is still mad he has the easy end of this. sure, i could go on down there, try and force a smile on my face and pretend i wasnt betrayed, but that isnt me. i cant run back because im suffering in so many ways. my head tells me its the logical thing to do, but my heart and my soul tell me its still not fixed and i just cant put myself thru anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i just plan to go out, have a few drinks, maybe flirt a little. i know my heart wont be in it completely, but i will just have to follow my head for once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-5083710502193647399?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/5083710502193647399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=5083710502193647399' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5083710502193647399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5083710502193647399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/breaking-loose.html' title='Breaking Loose'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8252023466618861425</id><published>2008-10-09T22:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T22:44:29.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of all of us....</title><content type='html'>She thought it would have lasted a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"she" is Tee, one of my bff's from elementary school. hadnt talked to her for several months til today. she has been trying to stalk me like several other people in my life. i havent been one for much conversation recently, but she understood after she had heard what had been going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tee was expressing her sympathy towards Grandma's passing, and asked me how things were since Nel had moved. i laughed softly and told her that we had split.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You what? you split up?" she said, shocked. "But i thought, out of all of us..." her voice trailed off, and i could imagine her thru the phone, shaking her head in disbelief. i know what the rest of the sentence was: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; would have lasted forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my girlfriends relationships run the gamut. some are rocky, some are still questioned, others are wonderful. somehow, we got categorized into the wonderful category. Nel and i, other than his habit of sharing our relationship details with his "female friends" never really discussed our relationship. or at least i didnt. i think that is why it came as such a shock to people. we werent the type to argue in public, or rant and rave to other people. if things didnt get worked out, they just didnt get worked out. end of story. other people werent involved. from the outside looking in things were...normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope that Tee never envied us. i hope nobody envied us. our relationship had its ups and downs like everyone elses does. it just goes to show you what happens behind closed doors can be far different from what you see on the outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8252023466618861425?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8252023466618861425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8252023466618861425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8252023466618861425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8252023466618861425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/out-of-all-of-us.html' title='Out of all of us....'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8497067250784062349</id><published>2008-10-08T17:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:43:52.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Next Time Around....</title><content type='html'>Dad said something to me that i didnt really like. he told me the next man i bring into Ari's life better be a permanant one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he wasnt saying it to be rude, or hateful, or discouraging. if my relationship can be saved, he wants it saved. but on the chance it doesnt, he wants me to make sure his granddaughters dont get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my intentions as a parent, even though i started early in life, was to never hurt my child. i was very careful in the year and a half i was single before i met Nel to never expose her to anyone i dated. i felt as though i lucked up with him and didnt have to worry about things, i guess i felt like we would be together for a while and i wouldnt have to expose her to a "mommy is here, daddy is there" type of situation. so she is now close to a man who she considers her father (although i believe she knows he isnt) and, should i decide to date in the future, will now be exposed, along with Niecy, to mommy dating. i just dont like that. but its also something i guess i have to accept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ive said before that i accept i might have to be alone. that "bad by myself" mentality continues to kick me in the ass. although it isnt an ideal situation, it might be realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nel and i talked last night for a while. i asked him when he came to see the girls again to try and stay the night so i could have a real break. he agreed, and then said he would try to give me some money. i said no, i dont need you to pay for me going out. and i dont. the only thing money-wise that i want from him is for Niecy. Ari doesnt require much, but the baby is expensive. thats all i ask, that he help with her expenses. of course, he goes into this speech about oh, well you must have found you a baller then, you dont need my money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i get really tired of being accused of going after a "baller"...it was old the second time he mentioned it, and he has mentioned it a lot. i suppose i should start accusing him of seeing a supermodel now? a girl who can pay him ten times more attention than he got with me? that would be hard to do, but i guess if we are going after something better, thats what he should aim for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another thing he said that seriously annoyed me was the implication that i wasnt accepting his attempts to fix things. "i have apologized, thats all i can do." really? that isnt all you can do. that would have worked the first time, but after this much damage, an apology is the least of my concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont even know where to begin! and frankly, it isnt my position to tell him what he needs to do. i guess i can try though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. GROW THE FUCK UP. this isnt about you anymore. this isnt about me anymore. you need attention? please. part of being a parent and an adult is sacrifice. that means if i am preoccupied and not paying you as much attention, you suck it up like a big boy and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;deal with it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; i always have. your main concern is your child. not your dick or your ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. LOOK AT THE FUTURE...everything you do and say affects the kids. do you really want me to tell them years down the road WHY mommy and daddy arent together? how do you think that is going to make you look...it hasnt occurred to you because you have both parents in your life. imagine if you mom told you that daddy left because he was unfaithful, or a liar. its one thing if you just grow apart and fall out of love, but there can be serious damage on the other hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. LISTEN. and by listen i mean shut up and pay attention. everything you need to know is said out loud. if you dont understand, that means you arent listening good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. EARN THAT TRUST BACK. and honestly, i dont know what that will entail. ive been told countless times that you can learn to trust again. but how? i need help in that area, learning to take you at face value. i gave you the benefit of the doubt so much that the benefit has been completely depleted. there is nothing left but doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. APPRECIATE ME. and that means doing all of the above and then some. i got tired of being called your "girl" like we were in high school. what kind of shit is that? im 27, if i want to be someones girl, i will date a 20 year old. acknowledge the little things that i do. sometimes i would do things that would go completely unnoticed. i felt like a maid and nanny some days. i was faithful, a mother to your child, your backup when you needed it, your nurse, your secretary, why didnt that count for something? why didnt those things pop in your head when you were doing wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.REALIZE THAT IF I RETURN, THE NEXT TIME I LEAVE WILL BE &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PERMANENT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. thats right. there is no next time if things get fixed. i am DONE. and in a way, i feel done now. the longer it takes to fix things this time around, the less hope i have that it needs to be fixed. i dont want the drama, the heartache, the distrust...it is just too too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; DO RIGHT BY ME, OR NOT AT ALL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8497067250784062349?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8497067250784062349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8497067250784062349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8497067250784062349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8497067250784062349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/next-time-around.html' title='The Next Time Around....'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3356759879676173418</id><published>2008-10-04T22:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T22:19:25.971-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anniversary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the notebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing you'/><title type='text'>Wishful Thinking</title><content type='html'>normally i have nothing to write about twice in one day. today i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was already in a vulnerable mood about the whole 6 year anniversary thing. my sister told me to watch The Notebook...i declined. nobody in the house realized what today was but me. i dont think she would have suggested it if she had known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this afternoon i got a text message that started a chain along these lines:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: thanks for coming with me yesterday...miss us spending time together!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me:well im glad you got to see the baby longer than usual.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: is there any future for us... i miss u and the kids&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: dont ever doubt that i love you. always have, always will. we have some serious work to do and i just dont know where to fix things...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: love u&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: i know you do but you have to realize my heart cant take much more of this. things have to change one way or the other. point blank.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh. i just dont know where to begin. i think i should probably just leave it alone....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3356759879676173418?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3356759879676173418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3356759879676173418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3356759879676173418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3356759879676173418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/wishful-thinking.html' title='Wishful Thinking'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-6483583297474794315</id><published>2008-10-03T23:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:32:03.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Six</title><content type='html'>its just after midnight, Saturday morning, and i realized a minute ago, that today would be our six year anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt; was funeral day for his grandmother. unlike my grandmothers funeral, i made sure i made it to the funeral and spent time with his family. it was hard as usual, having to pretend i liked him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much while the relatives that know me continuously called me the wife/girlfriend. i ran out of ways to explain a kid does not make me a wife or girlfriend. that much is apparent in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so six years, huh. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; a long time. hell, some couples meet, marry, and divorce in less than six years. it does make me sad to think things ended before this pivotal moment in the relationship. deep down inside i have a little person standing there yelling at me, "stop this! just forgive him and stop looking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; his stuff and work on things and just let him start over. you know you miss him, you know how stressful it is to be angry at him, so why put yourself &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; all of this for nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the other hand is the other person, who really wants to strangle the other little person. she constantly reminds me "he is a liar. he cheated, or at least was participating in the initial stages of cheating. he lied about everything, and continues to lie. he has never been honest with you, and you put up with that for so long. you are finally free of this nonsense, why go back? why turn back to the lies and cheating. screw being lonely, call a friend, email someone, do anything you can to move forward and show him it is very very possible for you to move on and that you have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone told me the other day that i needed to let &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; go. i thought i had done that, but in ways that only i know, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;havent&lt;/span&gt; completely. sure, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not out dating, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; think that is appropriate right after ending a relationship that long. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; even feel like dating. i just want to chill and enjoy the drama-free part of life i have freed up. sure, there is still drama in my life, but this was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;doozy&lt;/span&gt;, and cutting it off has been like ridding myself of a cancer. it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; there to kill my spirit anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what would we have done this anniversary? probably nothing. he has never remembered an anniversary. hell, he went out of town to a football game one year. about a week after, it usually hits him and he asks what we did, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; know why, because we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; do anything. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; get me wrong, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ive&lt;/span&gt; never been that girl that wanted to celebrate the 1/2 year anniversary of our first kiss or stick of gum or anything like that. but to actually remember and acknowledge how long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been your "girl" would have been nice in the past. no dinner or anything, but just a kiss and maybe a card stating how much you appreciate me. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; ask for the world. just 3 minutes of your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year i will buy myself a card and tell myself how much i appreciate ME. because i deserve it. nobody can love me like me, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess this year i will really find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-6483583297474794315?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/6483583297474794315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=6483583297474794315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6483583297474794315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/6483583297474794315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/10/six.html' title='Six'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4696420079934530094</id><published>2008-09-29T17:17:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T13:38:03.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell it like it is</title><content type='html'>Nel's mom's birthday was Saturday, so his dad had a really nice cookout for her yesterday. Let me make one thing super clear: i love Nel's family. they are some of the nicest people i have ever met, and they make it known that i am family no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm. no matter what, huh? i assumed he had told his family about our split, seeing as how a week from now it will be going on three months. instead, i was introduced to some of his mom's friends as Nel's Girlfriend. this, after a kiss on the cheek in front of the family that i wanted to choke him over. did i think it was sincere? hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was livid about this. i figured after this long, one of the three people who knew would have accidentally or otherwise, told his parents. apparently, this has not happened yet. i smiled politely, shook hands and gave hugs, and gritted my teeth. i chose not to bring this up at the cookout. it wasnt the time nor the place for theatrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i got home (after yet another "goodbye" kiss on the cheek in front of my parents...grrr) i decided to ask him why his parents had not been informed. after all, my picture graces three rooms in their house. and if we arent "together" they should have the right to decide whether they need glamour shots of me with the rest of their family. what happened was a series of texts that went like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: why havent you told your parents about things yet?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: what things....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: what do you think? they dont know we split do they.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: my sister knows, thats our business, why do they have to know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: well i got real tired of people asking when i was moving down with you, and being introduced as your girlfriend. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: I told her because seh asked. if you get tired of it, tell them you're not my girl anymore...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: i didnt want to be rude while your mom was introducing me. its not my job to tell your parents. i told mines already. but if you want i can call your mom and answer all the questions she has about the situation...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: Do what you do. Have fun with your new man, i know someone has scooped you up by now....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: yeah between Kroger and Walmart i found someone. that and being sick for a week. just know that if anyone asks im telling them whats up. and im not lying for you either.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel:whatever. you are not going to ruin my day. we can talk about this some other time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: im not discussing it later. we arent going to get anywhere then either...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nel: we could have talked about this earlier when you were here!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me: i wasnt going to talk about that with people around.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he then called me, and an hour-long arguement ensued. the usual was said, i was nosy, and it was pretty much all my fault for things happening. i didnt like to cook or clean, i didnt pay him enough attention. i called it how i saw it. regardless of whether he ever did anything with the girl, his track record was shit. how was i supposed to believe him when i had been lied to so many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as it stands now, he wanted to try and get me a car. not interested. he is getting an apartment in the next few weeks. good for you, not moving in. i have never asked him for anything, and i never will. he mentioned how my "pride" is always in the way, i never want help, ask for help, need help. what is so wrong with that? apparently, a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4696420079934530094?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4696420079934530094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4696420079934530094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4696420079934530094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4696420079934530094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/tell-it-like-it-is.html' title='Tell it like it is'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3895358405355044649</id><published>2008-09-25T23:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T00:17:54.377-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thats not what friends are for...</title><content type='html'>my experience with Nel was that he was never going anywhere. ever. i notice that with a lot of men. the relationship has soured or hit a rough patch, but they are going to be there until the end. truthfully, even though they think that makes them seem like the "better/stronger one" since they were the ones who were left, it is the exact opposite. i tried so many times to take time out away from my relationship, and i was always greeted with "well im not going anywhere." lets face it. our friends and family know us. they are going to know whose fault it is no matter who left who. so sticking it out is just dragging out the inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nel has said on more than one occasion that i run from problems. its true at times. i have, many times, gotten in my car and just left. usually i would come home, because it is the one true place i can unwind and think clearly. i never came running to tell a situation or ask for advice, because i knew what it would lead to. i dont believe in asking people about most relationship situations. male or female. it causes problems in more ways than one. Nel has on several occasions, mentioned problems to some of his female friends. BIG NO-NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a woman, so i know what is going thru this "friends" mind. "hmmm. shorty isnt handling her business at home...so let me make sure he knows he can count on me for support" also translated into "this dumb b*tch, he came running to ME when she messed up...let me plant my seeds so that when things go downhill for real i can slide on in." why dont men understand that scheme?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been that woman. or girl anyway. when i was right out of high school, one of my best male friends was dating this girl who was just awful. i looked better than her and just knew the moment she messed up, she would lose him. sure enough, they had a huge fight, and who did he call? me. dont get me wrong, i truly cared for this guy. it wasnt just a "haha i won" type of deal. we had a strong relationship to begin with. he started off telling me how xyz had happened, and they were over for good. i listened patiently, interjected with an occasional "oh she shouldnt have done that..." and provided one hell of a shoulder to lean on. by being that 100% team member, he developed feelings for me beyond the friendship role i slid into. he never saw it coming. if he had any doubts in his mind about his initial decision to end things, i certainly killed them the moment they popped up. it was high school after all. we ended up dating for a while. he is the "run away to florida with me" person from "only the lonely part 2", so you know how strong that relationship was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fellas...does your "female friend" say things like "oh thats wrong" or "i would never do that!" or "that is just trifling" or "you deserve better"?? if she is single, its a set up. POINT BLANK. she doesnt care about you or what is going on. she saw an opening and headed straight for it. it doesnt matter that maybe you over reacted, and things can be fixed. in her eyes, it is over, or at least you are "taking a break" and can interact/date/sleep with her. and the same goes for that "friend" who wants to call you and complain about what her man is doing wrong. HELL NO... i had to speak to Nel about that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once again, i am a woman. so i know the routine. "so-and-so, my man is sooo mean to me. he did this and that, i just dont know what i should do..." are you kidding me? why are you calling your "guy friend" about your man? unless he is laying some serious smackdown on her, &lt;strong&gt;that is what her girlfriends are for! &lt;/strong&gt;of course, you guys just eat it up. "i wouldnt treat you like that" and "man, maybe you should move on" is code for "drop that loser, i can take better care of you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now the extra smart chick has this covered from both angles. she is in a relationship, AND is your confidante when your main squeeze is acting up. so when you call her with that "Bee is acting up, what would you do?" type of deal, she reacts swiftly because it seems she is "untouchable" and only has your best interest at heart. "really? oh well she shouldnt do that. i treat MY man like this..." perfect set up. now you have a list of things that Bee isnt doing like your friend is. doesnt matter if she is lying or not. then she has the perfect reason to call you back..."well Bob isnt doing this, or he did this and i dont know what to do?" you react with a feeling of owing her for helping you thru your "problems"...the moment you start helping, you are in major trouble. she is going to throw out things like "i know you would never do that. i dont understand why your girl is treating you this way! here i am in a relationship and i do everything my man wants, and your girl doesnt appreciate what she has..." Wifey, you are done. she has done the one thing you do when you want someone elses man: stroke that ego. he gets to thinking "hell yeah, im a good dude, i deserve better than that. someone like my friend over here." oh, dear. you are about to cheat on your main squeeze with a girl that sure as hell could be lying about her poor man. he doesnt have a clue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i guess the point im trying to make overall is communication. that, and privacy. dont go running your mouth everywhere about your problems. dont communicate with the opposite sex about your problems...unless it is maybe a family member. now im not saying you cant talk to anyone EVER of the opposite sex, because there are some good people out there who want to help you, not help themselves. think long and hard before you pick up that phone to call or text. &lt;em&gt;think about what message you are sending out&lt;/em&gt;. the other person will pick up on the situation better than you think. if you want to vent, write a letter, go for a ride and talk to yourself. but never let anyone poisonous into your head. once they get in, they will lay out the blueprint for bigger, worse problems that they have no intention of helping you thru at all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3895358405355044649?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3895358405355044649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3895358405355044649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3895358405355044649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3895358405355044649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/thats-not-what-friends-are-for.html' title='Thats not what friends are for...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-2511383224119413258</id><published>2008-09-21T19:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T12:50:02.068-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missed calls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='telephone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='atlanta'/><title type='text'>Mr. Telephone Man...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;. no contact for a few days. just a few random texts and calls to talk to the girls. i find that strange, mainly because usually it was ten calls a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i have never been "that girl", the one who calls you and asks where you are. i also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; feel the need to call you during the day PERIOD. i like talking on the phone to my girlfriends, many a night has been burned up running off at the mouth with P and D, but not with my man. i mean, its all good at the beginning when you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; really want to be all up in each others face 24/7. but once we are in a relationship, especially living together,&lt;em&gt; i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want to talk to you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember back in '04 i think. i was working as a rep for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;TMobile&lt;/span&gt;, making peanuts, and desperate to find another job. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; had left on a Thursday to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;chaperone&lt;/span&gt; a marching band trip to Atlanta with his friend. i got a call for a job interview early that Friday, and hopped out of bed, threw on that business suit, and ran out. when i got back to the car, i had 34 missed calls. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; right, 34. one was from mom, one from my cousin, and the other 32? you guessed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well since he was out of town i assumed something was wrong. from the number of calls i figured the bus had run off the road. i called him back frantic. and what i got was a conversation something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: hey whats wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Him: nothing. where are you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: wait, what do you mean nothing...&lt;br /&gt;Him: i been calling you.&lt;br /&gt;Me: um, yeah, 32 times.&lt;br /&gt;Him: i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; call you no 32 times.&lt;br /&gt;Me: funny, because i had 34 missed calls and only two of them were NOT you.&lt;br /&gt;Him: whatever. where you been?&lt;br /&gt;Me: for your information i had a job interview at 830 this morning.&lt;br /&gt;Him: you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; mention that.&lt;br /&gt;Me: yeah well they called at 8 and i told them i would come straight over.&lt;br /&gt;Him: why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; you tell me?&lt;br /&gt;Me: like i said. i had 5 minutes to get ready and i just left. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; thinking to call you ALL THE WAY IN ATLANTA and tell you i had a job interview.&lt;br /&gt;Him: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; disrespectful, blah blah, you are so inconsiderate...(insert random nonsense here)&lt;br /&gt;Me: look. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; call me no damn 32 times over some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;bullsh&lt;/span&gt;*t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; lying, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; flying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since i am not that girlfriend who feels the need that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; you take a breath, wipe your behind, blink, or clear your throat, that you have to call and let me know, i expect the SAME THING. looking back, that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; the only time it happened. i have never once asked why a phone call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; returned or answered. i have been called inconsiderate, cheater, liar, you name it, just because i have not stopped in the MIDDLE of what i was doing to answer his phone calls. he even mentioned it when he got caught messing with old girl a few months ago. "well sometimes i call and you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; answer the phone. how am i supposed to know what you are doing?" i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; need to tell you how much offense i took off that comment. dude what? well, i guess now i know what you were doing when i called and you didnt answer. so for all the good girls who have been asked that question, let me answer it for your man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;where was i when i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; answer your phone call?&lt;/em&gt; i was on the other line with the doctor who was calling in a prescription for your sick child, washing dishes, outside at the car, upstairs giving the kids a bath, in the car driving, vacuuming, in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt; making groceries for you to eat and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; get a signal, washing your clothes, trying to fit in 4 seconds to pee, playing a Barney tape for the 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time today so that i could get some things done, at work, on a job interview, went to get the mail, left the phone in the car while i ran in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;cvs&lt;/span&gt;, turned it off so i could go in the bank, loading the dishwasher, unloading the dishwasher, cooking dinner so you had a meal to come home to, on a conference call, in school at a PTA meeting, picking the kids up from the sitter, yelling at the kids, or sitting by myself in a corner upstairs near tears because i feel like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; doing this alone...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; where the hell i was. you pick one and tell me when the hell i had time to mess around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the moral of this story is that you cant let anyone shift the blame in the relationship. i am a victim of that to the very end. not only is it disrespectful, but it can cause unwarranted doubt in your mind. i actually thought maybe it was inconsiderate to have not taken 3 seconds to let him know i was leaving, and then i thought better. i dont care if i had been married. i would have handled the situation the exact same way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-2511383224119413258?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/2511383224119413258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=2511383224119413258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2511383224119413258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2511383224119413258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/mr-telephone-man.html' title='Mr. Telephone Man...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-5803395443707256019</id><published>2008-09-17T20:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T12:52:16.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss you</title><content type='html'>yep. the night after ILY, he told me he missed us. me in particular. once again, i shut him down with an "ok, goodnight"....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is it that people cant take responsibility for their actions? if you messed around and got caught, dont pull that "i miss you" bull. really? you do? did you miss me when you were with the other person? i bet i didnt even cross your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a good person. i dont steal, i dont drink and beat my kids, i dont cheat people...i just live my life the best i can and expect to be treated that way. is it too much to ask to be told the truth from time to time? i know it will hurt my feelings. but im a big girl now, and big girls need to receive that respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so instead of missing me, how about you respect me, as the mother of your child, as a black woman, and for just being me. i miss THAT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-5803395443707256019?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/5803395443707256019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=5803395443707256019' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5803395443707256019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5803395443707256019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-miss-you.html' title='i miss you'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-9115739381820811302</id><published>2008-09-16T13:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T13:51:11.000-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ily'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goodnight'/><title type='text'>I just called, to say...you know the rest.</title><content type='html'>yesterday while i was feeding the baby Nel called. we spoke for a minute and then i passed the phone off to Ari. i find it easier to do that, because it is hard to talk to him. i try to be formal, courteous even, but it just brings back memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once she was done, he wanted to talk to me again, but since i was busy i told her to tell him i would call him back later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i called him right as i was getting in bed. he just wanted to say goodnight, and that he missed us and would like to work on things. i reminded him that things are the way they are because of him. i felt it was only fair. i dont think i should get the bad rap because i didnt just push the issues under the rug. my mom didnt raise me like some women are: "all men cheat/lie and its okay. you just ignore it and things will be fine." oh hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think back to what my dad had talked about the other day, that anybody not married was fair game in this world. one thing i neglected to ask him was the steps to take if you are the one getting "cheated" on. i guess now i realize there is no step. you either have them, or you don't. and once you realize that you don't have them, you have to leave and keep on with your life. if they decide to return, well, its up to you to decide whether they deserve you or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we were hanging up, i had a feeling he would say it. chalk it up to knowing him for six years. he said goodnight, i said goodnight, and then he paused before he said "i love you"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i said ok, goodnight, and hung up. cold? maybe. but in my book you cant throw an ILY up in a situation after your repeated actions clearly give the impression that you dont...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-9115739381820811302?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/9115739381820811302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=9115739381820811302' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9115739381820811302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/9115739381820811302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-just-called-to-sayyou-know-rest_16.html' title='I just called, to say...you know the rest.'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-2924708940515908704</id><published>2008-09-14T20:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T13:19:35.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The power of prayer</title><content type='html'>managed to get to church this morning. one of my new years resolutions this year was to manage to have my behind in somebodys church on Sunday mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i was sitting, waiting for service to start, i turned around and saw a young couple walk in together. it was very sweet, his hand at the small of her back, leading her thru the crowd. i teared up a little bit. i remember being in love that first year, that brand new love. it sits on you so thick that people who dont know you can see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i let myself drift back six years ago when i found myself falling in love. the very beginning of relationships are both scary and fascinating. you find yourself nervous about what to let the other person know, because you dont want to be judged. the slightest touch from the other person sends chills down your back. the sexual tension is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss that. how hard is it to start all over again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-2924708940515908704?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/2924708940515908704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=2924708940515908704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2924708940515908704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/2924708940515908704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/power-of-prayer.html' title='The power of prayer'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8479560718559889080</id><published>2008-09-12T23:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T15:16:17.812-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you mean, he isn't coming??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; and i had a bit of a disagreement tonight. actually, i am going to say he had the disagreement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he was coming up today to see the girls and handle some business. traffic in his neck of the woods was awful so he decided to come tomorrow. he called to tell Ari goodnight, and that he would see her when he came back up tomorrow, but i told him i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasnt&lt;/span&gt; going to tell her. he wondered why i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; tell her, and i explained that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; want to disappoint her if something came up and he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; make it. I must have phrased it badly, because he got upset and snippy with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i think he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; realize, is that we grew up with both our fathers in our lives. our parents have both been married around 30 years, so when dad said he was going to do something, we never thought twice. i think its hard for us to understand what its like being separated from a parent, and then being told something great is going to happen, and then having that major upset. and who is to blame? dad is. (or mom, depends on the situation...) Ari is one of those kids who you can't tell ahead of time when there is a party, trip, etc. because every ten minutes is another question. One time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; make it up and she was majorly upset. i understood why he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; come. any adult could understand. but she whined and cried and was so devastated, that i decided then and there, that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wouldnt&lt;/span&gt; ever tell her when he is coming. i also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; tell her when i am coming to eat lunch with her. its the same situation. she is a kid you kinda&lt;strong&gt; have&lt;/strong&gt; to surprise. and i cant imagine once Niecy is old enough and the same situation occured...then i would have two crying faces to explain that to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he called me back and apologized, i think he gets it now...so if things go crazy and he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; make it up here tomorrow, she will be none the wiser...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was a crazy day. i was here alone, for the first time in weeks. the baby and i laid back down after breakfast and getting Ari on the bus. i woke up before she did, and i was just...lonely. nobody to talk to, nobody to listen to, of course i have friends who easily fill that void, but its not the same. after you have been with someone for so long, you get used to having that conversation all the time. im getting used to being by myself, but i dont like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not rushing out and doing anything to "fix" it, as one friend calls it. i dont want to date. i dont want any "friends with benefits", i want to be either completely happy, or completely alone. right now, i guess i have to be completely alone. i guess i should use this time to find myself, but even once that is all done, there is nobody to share it with. i dont want to be one of those women who just have to have a man. it doesnt matter if they are miserable, or on different pages, or complete opposites, they feel they are completed by having a man in their life. i guess im trying to find out what it is to be complete without one. its a tough goal to reach if you havent been alone in a while. i just pray for strength and patience, and know that what is meant to be, will be. no matter what the situation or circumstance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8479560718559889080?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8479560718559889080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8479560718559889080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8479560718559889080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8479560718559889080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-do-you-mean-he-isnt-coming.html' title='What do you mean, he isn&apos;t coming??'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-5718983441950101768</id><published>2008-09-09T22:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:29:37.400-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dr phil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change man'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maury'/><title type='text'>Dr. Phil lives with me</title><content type='html'>Dad was off today and so we followed our usual Monday routine on Tuesday. we watched Dr. Phil and then Maury, and discussed at length.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we came to a discussion that had been started long ago but never completed: what right does a woman have in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pursuing&lt;/span&gt; a man who is already taken? and by taken, we were excluding married men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my opinion was this: none. i cant see myself helping another man cut out on a woman he is involved with. i know girls that do this without a single shred of guilt. Dad felt that i have just as much right to this man as his girlfriend/fiancee/baby mama. shocked? i know i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he said that any man or woman is fair game if they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;arent&lt;/span&gt; married. and if you want them to NOT be fair game, some rings need to be exchanged. he said you never know when someone might be meant for you, but they are involved with someone else. i agreed, but also pointed out that before it gets to a sexual or serious nature, you should have the decency to step back and say "you know what, i am really feeling you, but you have someone. so if you want to leave her and be with me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; fine, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not crossing that line". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not encouraging people to leave their partners, but if you wanted to be with me and had someone, you owe her the decency to not be a bastard/whore in the process and let that person go. Dad kinda threw me off even more when he said that unless you are married to that person, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;shouldnt&lt;/span&gt; go after the person they are messing with. you take that up with your partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now he also pointed out that once you are married?? well hell, if that person crosses &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; line, its game on. call her and tell her that he/she needs to back off. tell your partner to cut it or be cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after Dr Phil went off, we watched Maury. we love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Maury&lt;/span&gt;. its the only show where 1000% means anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Maury&lt;/span&gt; is truly like watching a parade of sluts, whether its the man with 4 kids he is denying that are ALL the same age, or the woman on the stage for the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time looking for her child's father. it just never ends, and says a lot for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;American&lt;/span&gt; culture. premarital sex used to be an issue. now, i think its crossed the line to promiscuous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fictional Maury guest Bob: how on earth do you cheat on your wife and they say you love her? once is not acceptable, but it can be worked out. mistakes happen. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;drunkenness&lt;/span&gt; happens. caught up in the moment happens. but twice a week, in her bed, while she is at work, for 3 years? YOU DO NOT LOVE THAT WOMAN. you are a coward who is scared to tell her that you want to move on and do other things/people. you might have decent reasons to stay anyway, like the overwhelming amount of money in child support you will be paying, but you need to be true to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fictional guest Mary: girl are you kidding...once you let him stay after the second time you caught him cheating, its a wrap. HE DOES NOT LOVE YOU. and if he does, he has a sexual addiction or something he needs to work out. Dr Phil says you teach people how to treat you. and when you give chance after chance after UNDESERVED chance, that man knows that you wont be leaving anytime soon, if at all. he will continue to stray, and you wont learn your lesson until he ends up giving you aids or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is how i came to my conclusion to part ways with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Nel&lt;/span&gt;. i had showed him how to treat me. i let things slide and was not true to myself. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; like what was going on, and he knew it, and i completely relapsed into thinking he would change. has he learned his lesson? only he knows, but i know i dont see any evidence yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the best thing dad told me today was this: &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; cant change a man. you can stick around and give him some time, but he has to figure out what he needs to change, and if he thinks you are worth it, and cannot live his life without you, he WILL change. if he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt;? well you know where you stand...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-5718983441950101768?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/5718983441950101768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=5718983441950101768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5718983441950101768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/5718983441950101768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/dr-phil-lives-with-me.html' title='Dr. Phil lives with me'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-1142522393591108647</id><published>2008-09-08T22:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:04:21.961-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing</title><content type='html'>Nel called this evening to tell the girls goodnight. i was in here, at my wits end, with a migraine brought on by who knows what. i had emailed him yesterday and told him to let me know when he thought he was coming back up this way to see the girls. i desperately need a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know he is unhappy because he is missing so much, but he is missing more than he realizes. he misses all the bad things too, like helping with homework (not necessarily bad but it can be a headache), changing pampers, giving baths, feeding them, loading them up to take them places...its hard. it really takes a toll on you as a person. parenthood is not a one person job. it is a two person job, and hell, somedays you need three people. i am not judging him for taking the job down in va beach, because at the time i was intending to possibly go down there myself. but i still feel like im here alone. sure, there is a house full of people, but it doesnt take the place of someone else being there, rubbing your back at night, running you a bath to kick back in, or make up a silly drink with the corner of vodka and rum you have collecting dust on the counter. its those little things that count. so everyone is losing out in the end.  he misses the girls, i miss the support, the girls miss dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom mentioned that the other day, that he was missing so much. and i told her that i was not going to put myself back into a relationship that needs severe work and move down there just to resolve that. i understood when we got together that his career takes up a lot of time. i also lived with him thru the times when we had no money because his job wasnt paying enough, and he was searching for anything to make more. im not completely naive about these things but it still doesnt make things any easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know what the solution to this problem is. im sure he has no clue either. it seems to me that it is one of those things that works itself out in the end. but i hope there is no damage done in the meantime...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-1142522393591108647?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/1142522393591108647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=1142522393591108647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1142522393591108647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1142522393591108647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/missing.html' title='Missing'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-8828631031974909506</id><published>2008-09-07T23:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T23:44:52.865-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Only the lonely, part 5: the finale</title><content type='html'>the call came a few days after the big split: grandma wasnt expected to make it thru the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we had been expecting it, she was diagnosed with cancer in 07, and for the months preceeding the call, i had spent lots of time with her and helping to take care of her. she was terminally ill, so i knew i had to make the most of what i had left with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;many days i would put the baby in her carrier, and we would ride to her house, she would be sitting in the corner by the tv commenting on Emeril or watching the religious channel. i would do her laundry, or help with her physical therapy. some days she wouldnt do much talking, but others she would have me cracking up with her quick sense of humor. it was a welcome break from sitting in the apartment waiting for Nel to come home so i could have time to myself. it was heartbreaking to see a woman so meek and mild suffer like she did. but i had one thing that she had given me that will always live on: her personality. we were the most passive people anyone could hope to meet, and i knew that when she passed i had to fulfill that legacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i texted everyone about a week later to let them know she had passed in her sleep. it was a difficult time for me. a major breakup, and then her passing on top of it all. i couldnt eat or sleep for days. the one time in my life when i needed Nel the most, i couldnt stand him. i had to tough it out on my own. and i was mad about that. it wasnt fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once things settled down, he asked if he could come take me to dinner. i agreed and we had a pleasant evening out. he apologized again, still trying to see what he could do to fix things. and i let him know a lot of damage had been done, some that might never be the same. i simply wanted to know WHY? i couldnt believe the answer i got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wasnt getting enough attention. i absorbed it all in shock: i hadnt been talking or paying him any mind so he had to seek it elsewhere. although it was true, i was appalled at his reasoning. i ran down the list of what had been going on with me: a dying grandmother, losing my job, having a baby, still having to take care of Ari on top of things. how did he expect me to act? my mind was in 4 places at once. i barely remembered to eat during that few months, let alone check and see if he was getting the "attention" he needed. i laughed (not because it was funny, but to cool my nerves before saying something very evil) and asked if we had gone on with the wedding, would he still have looked for attention elsewhere? he said no. that, my friends, was a major problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can you not treat someone who is the mother of your child, and in a relationship with you for almost 6 years, with the respect of a spouse? that should have made no difference. anything i would do married, i would do single, and vice versa. he doesnt know how close he was to getting walked out on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i did something i shouldnt have done: i slept with him. what the hell was i thinking? i wasnt. the whole time we were having sex, i kept thinking about her, and whether or not she'd had what i was having right then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things evened out over the next several weeks. and then, he asked me to come down and stay with him, his brother and sister in law for a few days. things were nice the first few days. once again, i slept with him, deep down knowing i shouldnt. i was giving him his cake to both have and eat. after a few days i did it again. i checked his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;boy, you would think after all that had happened, he would have cut her off quick. but he hadnt. still texting, still conversating. i asked him to tell the truth and let me know if he had stopped. of course, he lied. he said he hadnt talked to her in almost a month and a half. but i knew from the phone logs that there were several conversations with her. it seemed like everytime i let my guard down and tried to trust him, he messed things up all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he didnt realize that there was only one thing he needed to do to "fix things", and that was to cut off all ties (and i meant ALL) with her. he couldnt figure that out for himself. and so i came back home, more depressed than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that brings us up to now. the past five entries have been 6 years in a nutshell. as of today, we still dont talk much. Ari calls him at night, he checks on them during the day via text messages. things are formal between us. i know he still talks to the girl (not assume, or guess...i know for a fact. i am sooo smart). i hope she was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not interested in dating AT ALL these days. it has left a bad taste in my mouth. i just want to get over the hump that life has sitting before me, grow up a little more, and move on. i find myself being bombarded with people that found out about the split and want second chances, but i dont want to start anything new at this point. i just want to be alone. and that is exactly what i got, except not the way i wanted it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-8828631031974909506?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/8828631031974909506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=8828631031974909506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8828631031974909506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/8828631031974909506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-lonely-part-5-finale.html' title='Only the lonely, part 5: the finale'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4876913198472053867</id><published>2008-09-06T22:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T23:12:18.147-05:00</updated><title type='text'>only the lonely, part 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;the 4th isnt a big holiday for my family. that day, we decided to just throw some things on a grill and eat. nothing major. Nel came thru, he was leaving that next day to start the new job and wanted to spend some time with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went inside to check on the girls. when i entered the den, my eyes were immediately drawn to his cell phone. it wasnt my intention going in that day to check but something told me to. and so i did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i found was the remaining messages of what seemed to be a lengthy conversation with a girl i had discovered before. the message i found in the preceeding months was disturbing to me: one that ended with "Miss you! xoxoxoxoxo"...when i confronted him, i was given an excuse of her being an old friend, blah blah. i tried to explain that "old friends" dont end their text messages the way you would end one to a girlfriend/wife, with kisses and hugs? really? of course, i was "overreacting", and if you ask me, i underreacted. how dare i ask you to respect me and not deal with other females like that...what on earth is my problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the new messages sealed the deal for me. whatever picture messages had been deleted was surely something scandalous and x rated. comments were made about size, "handling" things, and a question from her for him to come over. he had responded yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sat on that couch and i think time froze. what had always been a deep rooted suspicion was now basically dead in my face. it hadnt stopped. i dont know why i thought it would, he had never said he was wrong, he had apologized because i mentioned it, and he sure didnt say he would cut ties with her. what was i expecting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know how i made it thru the rest of the day. he noticed my cool demeanor and asked what was wrong, but with my parents and sisters so close, i didnt want to start a scene. i waited until he left and pounded out this letter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;nel,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i have a lot on my mind right now...so i am going to make this quick. as of right now, i have stopped all searching for a job in Va Beach. i dont think i will be moving down there. i know you want to know why, and let me tell you. i am not moving away from my family and my help to go down there deal with an unfaithful partner. i already know, i know who it is, and details of when you were going to go see her, and different things like that. i told you the last time, that it was the last time. im not tolerating it anymore. i guess i have just wasted six years, which is okay, i got a beautiful child out of the deal. i dont ask anything of you. ANYTHING. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i have given you my best, i have given you my all, i have sacrificed more than you know to be with you and be there for you. you have never once had to wonder if i was faithful to you. i have had numerous occasions where i have had to wonder and worry about what you were doing out with who. the condoms, the pictures, the letters, the text messages...are you kidding me? would you have stayed with me with this blatant obvious evidence in your face? hell, you broke up with me when i had no job...if this was sitting in your face you would leave too. i let it slide when you consistently carried condoms everywhere out of town with you. i let it slide when you had a conversation at 4am with another woman and conversated about your dick with her. i let it slide the first fucking text message with Tee that had xoxoxo at the bottom. i let it slide when some girl mailed you a letter about how in love with you she was. i let it all slide. now i have to find you talking about your equipment passing inspection, and what i guess was a picture of her who was wet and juicy and you couldnt wait to see/try it, whatever. and then the little meeting you two scheduled. wow. why didnt i leave you the first time? i feel like a complete fool. you knew i would be checking up on you again, and if you didnt, i dont know what you were thinking. you would do the same. and if you wouldnt do the same after finding something like that about me, i would say you are in denial. or you were doing your own thing and didnt care. you have lied about so much. i am tired of being lied to. TIRED. any woman with sense would have left years ago. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you obviously dont mind hurting me, after all i have been thru. dont give me that bullshit about your privacy. when you are putting what is supposed to be mines into someone else, or in a picture to someone, or talking about it to someone, it is officially my business. it is my business when you risk exposing me to an std. it is my business when we had a child together. you are letting some woman who does not care about you, ruin your family, your life, a relationship that i had thought at one point would last for a very long time. do you think she cares? hell no. any real woman who knows you have a family would not risk you losing all that if she cared about you. your previous bullshit is why i have to check on things. i know they say when you go looking for something you find exactly what you are looking for. i was looking for a reason to not have to do this. i was looking for a reason to pack my kids up and move to the beach. i was looking for a reason to ignore all the other shit youve done and trust you. i havent trusted you for a while now. it is nobody's fault but your own. i dont think im overreacting. i think im protecting myself and the girls. why cant you act right for the girls? you act like they mean so much to you but you do this?? i am so numb right now i cant even cry. and i havent cried. i dont think i will because deep down i think i saw this coming and had to wait things out until i saw for sure what i felt in my heart was going on. i am giving you what you want. if you want to go be with Tee, do what you do. i dont care anymore because i am thru. let her know you are a free man now! she can do what she wants with you, to you, send you pictures, its not my business anymore. you took my kindness for weakness, and now i have to show you how strong i can be. didnt think i would leave, did you? now you know. i guess this is the price i pay for loving you. there is nothing to discuss. dont call me. dont text me. dont come by. seriously. i am not playing or joking in any way. i will contact you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bee&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;within minutes of finishing, i texted him and told him to read his email when he got home. he responded immediately. i was on the phone with my bff and telling her what had happened when he came back to the house. what happened after that was a two hour long discussion about what i had seen, what it meant, how i wanted to find it, and how i was going to think what i wanted to think no matter what was truly going on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i was personally insulted. i didnt make any of these things up. i wasnt "seeing" anything. it was right there, front and center, cold hard evidence. he told me he hadnt gone to see her, that he had come to see us that night, but he hadnt spent the night with us, so that meant nothing to me. i didnt yell, i didnt scream, i just stated my case and left it at that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i couldnt believe almost 6 years of a relationship could be wasted like that. over a woman that didnt care about him. that much was obvious, no woman worth anything would assist in ruining a mans family like that. he didnt see it that way. til the very end he denied it all. i got a half-assed apology out of the deal. i never truly believed that apology. it was more of a "sorry i got caught" type of deal, not a "oh my god please dont end things like that". i got the feeling that he almost knew it was coming, or had been playing the field so long that he was already prepared if he was caught. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;when he finally left that evening, i sat in the floor and cried. a hundred different things were racing thru my mind. relief, that it was over; sadness that he would let that come between us; anger that i had been his fool for so long; bitterness, that another woman had meant more to him than i used to; disbelief, that he let things continue with her, knowing the consequences. it hurt my heart that after all the sacrifices and honesty and faithfulness i had given, it was so easy for him to betray me. i knew more than he thought i knew, though. i knew there had been actual conversations with her, so it wasnt a sex thing. he let her have his mind, not just his body. see, people dont understand that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;if i were to go out, and meet up with an ex or meet someone new, and decide i want to get physical with them, thats all that is going to happen. there are no conversations. i am not letting you get inside my head like that, i dont care how you are, or what your day was like. im not in this for a relationship. im in it for the sex. in this case, since he was talking to her almost every other day, there was the beginning of a relationship of sorts. and once she knew he would go out of his way to keep it from me, she knew it was game on. &lt;em&gt;if he doesnt care, why should i? i can make my move at his most vulnerable point and he wont be able to tell the difference.&lt;/em&gt; but see, im a woman. i know the rules of this game that so many men fall victim to. i have played it before. successfully, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i thought that this would really be it, and that i could attempt to start doing something for myself and the girls. but the worst was yet to come...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4876913198472053867?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4876913198472053867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4876913198472053867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4876913198472053867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4876913198472053867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-lonely-part-4.html' title='only the lonely, part 4'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-688621346599827481</id><published>2008-09-03T23:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T23:14:02.724-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Only the lonely, part 3</title><content type='html'>two pink lines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who would have imagined after a nice round of sangria, we would manage to get pregnant. in the weeks between conception and discovery, i was a raging bitch. i couldnt stand the sight of Nel. his smell made me nauseous. hearing his voice annoyed the crap out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things didnt change in the months to come. he did more bullshit, and played it like i was overreacting. i was a hormonal mess, finding myself several times wondering how i let myself get pregnant by someone who would treat me this way... i was no better than the countless number of women i shook my head at in similar situations. i got tired of crying in secret. i would go to the ladies room at work or my office and just sit in the dark, but it was something i couldnt let anyone else see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see, as a black woman, and as a pregnant woman, i was faced with a dilemma: as a black woman, i was supposed to be tough and not let things get me down. and as a pregnant woman, i was supposed to let everything out. i chose to let it all out in secret. nobody knew the whole pregnancy what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by this time, including all the medical issues i had going on, i was miserable. pregnancy was supposed to be a time to enjoy the life growing in me, and i did enjoy it, but with the work drama and home drama and not to mention my parents disappointment, i didnt know what to do. i felt like i spent the whole nine months alone. Nel worked late and spent time with his coworkers more after work, while i sat at home alone. when he was at home, we didnt do much talking, but he found time to text awfully sweet messages to a friend of his...the likes of which i hadnt seen in months. i went to my appointments alone, looking jealously at the scores of fathers who decided they wanted to tag along and be supportive. i wanted out. out of being pregnant, being a mother, being a signifigant other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coming closer to the end, i knew i had some decisions to make, but they were never made. after having Nisa and losing my job within a month, any plans i had of moving onwards and upwards were crushed. i started to plan around my income tax check, looking at apartments to see if they would take a full 6 months rent in advance without running any kind of credit check on me. i knew it would be hard but i wanted it so bad i could taste it. i couldnt take anymore. when that fell thru as well, i was close to giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually, we had to leave the apartment. he went to stay with a friend before moving on to Va Beach to start a new job. i took up a post on my moms couch. he kept asking me if i wanted to look for a job down there, and at first i was all for it. i had nothing to lose, literally. but in the back of my head, this nagging feeling kept poking at me. and so i asked the lord to show me what i needed to know before uprooting my girls and moving to a new area. he showed me on the 4th of July.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-688621346599827481?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/688621346599827481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=688621346599827481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/688621346599827481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/688621346599827481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-lonely-part-3.html' title='Only the lonely, part 3'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3455266325258964066</id><published>2008-09-02T21:31:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T17:54:14.083-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><title type='text'>Only the lonely, part 2</title><content type='html'>the next few weeks were full of dinner dates, some with Ari, some without. he absolutely loved her when they met, she was one going on two and was a fun addition to our outings. even from the beginning people mistook her for his daughter, and most of the time he would laugh it off with a thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things weren't as swell at home. we were bumping heads constantly, and my parents felt it would be in my best interest to move out. i was heated at first, my job sucked big time, i would bring home about $700 a month, not even close to what i needed to make to get my own place. by then, Nelly and i had been together for about two months. since he had just gotten his apartment, he invited me to move in. i was skeptical at first, not because of him, or the situation, but because we hadn't known each other nearly long enough to move in together. i cared a lot for him, and i assumed he did as well but i would hope that it wouldn't ruin the way things were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it worked out okay for a while. the rent was cheap, the apartment was cute, we had company come over all the time, celebrated his 25&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday that following February. we got to know the lady at the Chinese restaurant up the road very well. all in all, things were going pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually, the stress of my bad job started to catch up with us. i searched high and low for a new job so that i could contribute more. the lack of me being able to help out more combined with me not being the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;housewifey&lt;/span&gt; type" started to wear on him. since i had never lived with anyone before i wasn't exactly familiar with how different things were delegated. i had been messy and unorganized my whole life and felt it needed to be accepted. what i failed to realize was that since i wasn't bringing in as much money, he felt i should do more around the house. he said as much, i think the exact quote was if he wasn't getting anymore help, he might as well do it himself. when he got home the next night, i was packing my mothers car with my and Ari's things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as far as i was concerned, i was done. if it had to be that way, then oh well. i had done my part, uneducated as i was on this step in a relationship, i felt i was right. he called begging for forgiveness within a matter of days. i still didn't go back. i ended up getting a very good job in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now throughout all of this, i always had questions of certain activities that went on. i never could prove anything 100% so i was constantly berated for checking behind him, going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; this things...a lot of the time it was right there in the open where anyone would have been able to see them. my women's intuition was not tingling, it was on fire. but i ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward about a year. i was still back at home. we were working on things. we decided to move back in together, i was at my wits end living with my parents again, he was driving way out to work, so we decided to meet somewhere halfway and find somewhere. i was eager to get things together again, so that i could try and do things better than before. it started out well, we got a great place that we loved, Ari loved it too. we always had a party going on, friends stayed over frequently, and our jobs were going well. we started looking for jobs closer to home, this was right around the time that gas was starting to go up. it made sense for at least one of us to work closer, he found a job about ten minutes away, and i found one that paid more. within 2 months, i was laid off. and in a move i still don't understand, he quit his job. when you go from making close to 50k a year, to absolutely nothing in a matter of a month, it is a crucial reality check. not to mention certain "activities" had resumed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could never figure out what i was doing wrong. besides the fact that i didn't like cleaning up (our place was never dirty, it could have used a good organizational session, but was always neat enough for company.) i did whatever he asked. mentally i felt like we were equals. i never experienced that with a partner before. we could talk for hours on end about anything and i loved that. physically we were both still in pretty good shape, i had picked up a little weight, but he loved it on me so i kept things the way they were. sexually, well, things were 110% in that department. i was told by him that things were great and he would NEVER have to go anywhere else. hm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but emotionally? at times i felt completely played. an argument about anything (the dishwasher wasn't loaded right, a bounced check, shoes in the living room floor...etc) was draining. i found myself over and over again wanting OUT. if i could just get time away from him, i could think things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt;, and put everything i had known/found out about him on a table somewhere and think. i couldn't think with him around. it was like reading the newspaper with someone hanging over your shoulder. i put on a good front for family. no one was the wiser. it was around that time i made a crucial mistake: i mentioned marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong. at that point, we had been together for about 3 years. i have never been that kind of girl to crave a wedding. it just had gotten to the point where, if all these suspicious things were going on, was i wasting time in this relationship? was he serious about me? did he have any plans on EVER marrying me? of course, he took it like any man does. i was pressuring him, and he didn't want to be rushed. i didn't want a date set, i wanted to know what his intentions were, but i dropped the subject. he didn't forget though, and the damage was done. i think that is when things took another turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in 05, he went out of town to bike week with his friends from college. i felt like it was an unnecessary trip, due to money issues he almost couldn't go, but someone said they would loan him the money, so he went. i personally felt insulted that he would make that much effort to go out of town to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bike week&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. where were all these "loans" when your car note was late and i had to pay it? or the rent was due? or for my birthdays? promises of half naked girls and cars did the trick though...but i was being "that girlfriend", the one who didn't understand all his friends were going and that he wanted to go too. of course i understood that, i have a child. i understand "all my friends are..." kids say it all the time. i made up my mind a few hours after he left, that i was going to go stay with my parents for a while. i should have left when i planned, because he made it back early. he saw the suitcases, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hellified&lt;/span&gt; argument ensued, and he stormed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should have left anyway. but i didn't. i stayed. to this day i wish i had still rolled those suitcases out to my car and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ended up moving out of those apartments and stayed with friends of his for a while. it simply added to the hell and heartache i endured for him. the situation was bad enough to write a completely different story about, but lots of lessons were learned and things started to work out, again. sort of. we moved a block from my parents house around that Christmas, had new jobs, new outlooks, promised to each other and ourselves that things would never get that bad again. we were wrong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking back, i notice times where things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt; 50/50. honesty, faithfulness, efforts. sure, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; like washing dishes, but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; a deal breaker. i might like to shop and buy things i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; necessarily need, but i bought things for him. i might have had lonely nights while he went out with friends, but i was here when he got home. he never had to worry about me. i could never say the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told him not too long ago about an ex i had. he was perfect in every way possible, and we had stopped dating a good while before Nelly and i met. this ex wanted to get married. he wanted to swoop Ari and i up and whisk us down south, where his job had transferred him. he would buy a house, another car for me, help me finish school down there, he had a serious master plan. but we had been through so much, that i decided to take a break and see how things would work out. when i met Nelly, i decided to give him a chance and see if life maybe had other things in store for me. i was only 21 at that time, and leaving my friends and family for a new life 3 states away scared me. where is the ex now? still living down there, dating a girl who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; me. she has the life i would have had. sometimes i get mad at the life i would have had, because i sacrificed it all for someone else. and that someone else &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hasn't&lt;/span&gt; always appreciated it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sat in our new apartment in the dark on Christmas, just a mattress and a lamp. Ari stayed with my parents so that her holiday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; a gloomy one. it was cold and miserable, our holiday meal was a sub from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Wawa&lt;/span&gt; around the corner. not where i would ever have imagined myself. once we got settled in, things were quiet for about a month and a half. not long after Valentines day, we started planning a wedding. there was never an official proposal, unless a cocktail straw at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;TGIFridays&lt;/span&gt; counted. (once again, where were those loans then, huh?) As it just so happened, my car died, and plans had to be put on hold. i had never really felt like i was getting married anyway, and i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; know if he was agreeing just to appease me, even though the idea was his to begin with. he was very quiet about the whole thing, he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; talk while we were looking at the room, just nodded and said whatever. i went and picked out a dress alone. there were going to be no bridesmaids or groomsmen, just our immediate family and two best friends a piece. it really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; scream HAPPY or MARRIED at all. it was almost like we were being forced into it, and we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt;. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; excited and screechy when people asked, i just smiled and nodded. he rarely referred to me as his fiancee, i was always his &lt;em&gt;girl&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think my car dying was a sign. we had to cancel the festivities, thank goodness no money had been put into it. my dress was not expensive at all, and the plain wedding bands i purchased went into the closet. our attitudes went south a bit. he started to always be with co-workers in the evenings, i would be at home, alone, helping Ari with her homework and putting her to bed. time we spent together alone was rare and quiet, usually on the couch watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; in the evenings. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; say i was miserable, but i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; happy. i was tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; too long after that time period, that i peed on a stick and watched two lines appear...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3455266325258964066?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3455266325258964066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3455266325258964066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3455266325258964066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3455266325258964066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-lonely-part-2.html' title='Only the lonely, part 2'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-4898760550023889044</id><published>2008-09-01T21:23:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T17:54:38.159-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><title type='text'>Only the lonely...part 1</title><content type='html'>i mentioned in the last post that i am now single...here is the situation in a nutshell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nelly and i have, lets say known each other, since Oct. 2002. we met when he moved across the street from us and into his best friends house. he had this black jeep with big rims that he kept immaculate, and i thought he was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SO&lt;/span&gt; cute. for months we just looked at each other while he drove past the house, eventually it led to an occasional wave. i have never been the type of girl to approach a guy. i guess i just cant deal with being rejected by anyone, especially in a situation that i created!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually, i started "adjusting" my schedule so that i could see him. some called that stalking, but i call it giving fate a helping hand. sure enough, i saw him leaving every day at the same time, white uniform and apron in hand, i thought he was a busboy or waiter. not exactly my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;caliber&lt;/span&gt; of guy, but he had a job and had a car, so that was at least working in his favor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i asked my neighbor, J.A. to ask about the "guy in the black truck". she came back with some supreme &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;info&lt;/span&gt;: he was from out of town, a chef, trying to get started up here. 24 years old, single...things sounded okay to me! i continued to work my way outside whenever possible, usually when he was outside. we would still stare at each other, never saying a word. this went on for about three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, one day, i lost my keys. i figured i had left them somewhere outside, i had been in the front yard with Ari playing earlier. i called my mom to let her know i would be leaving later than usual since the keys were nowhere to be found. while i was walking around the yard talking to her, i spotted an orange shirt: he was outside at the truck. i panicked for a moment, i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hadn't&lt;/span&gt; really gotten cute enough to see him that day, but i was too late, he had already noticed me. he sat in the jeep for a minute and looked at me. i kept peeking at him, waiting for him to leave. "mom," i said, "That guy across the street is sitting in his car staring at me!" she told me to hurry up and find my keys, that he could wait. when i looked up again he was walking towards me. i hung the phone up and swallowed the feeling of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;imminent&lt;/span&gt; nausea that hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; Nelly&lt;br /&gt;Hi, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; Bee&lt;br /&gt;Nice to meet you Bee.&lt;br /&gt;blah blah, insert 10 minutes worth of usual getting-to-know-you speech&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he gave me his number and said to call him. and then, in a move i had never witnessed, he kissed me on the hand, turned around and left. i stood there for a minute like "say what? what type of game does he think he is running!!!!" and then i blushed a little bit and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sat there that night, nervous as hell, holding the little green cell phone i owned, dialing his number over and over and hitting end after i lost my nerve. finally i let the phone ring, he answered, and we talked for a few. we made plans to go out the next night. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; believe i was talking to him, it was like being in high school all over again and finally getting your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;crushes&lt;/span&gt; phone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next night, we went on what i have classified as my best date ever. the restaurant was beautiful, he looked good, i looked good. the food was excellent, i tasted his shrimp dish and sipped his apple martini. he told me he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; taste my food with the prosciutto because ham &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; agree with him. we left, listening to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Musiqsoulchild&lt;/span&gt; on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;CD&lt;/span&gt; player, realizing that i had the exact same set of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Cd's&lt;/span&gt; at home in my stereo. we witnessed a car accident while we rode around and talked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; remember the end of the date. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; drunk, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; sleep together or anything. we went back to his house and watched the end of a James Bond movie. he walked me home across the street. we kissed. and as i went back in the house and laid in the bed next to Ariana's crib, i reflected on the evening and thought how &lt;em&gt;nice&lt;/em&gt; it had been. i felt like i had known him for years before. My phone rang a minute later, and i looked out the window, he was sitting on his front porch, i could see the blue from his cell phone across the street. we stayed on the phone for hours that night...and i knew then that something special would come from this chance meeting, i just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; sure what yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-4898760550023889044?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/4898760550023889044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=4898760550023889044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4898760550023889044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/4898760550023889044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-lonelypart-1.html' title='Only the lonely...part 1'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-1649796108063756312</id><published>2008-08-31T18:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T23:43:58.726-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hard times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>New beginnings or old starts?</title><content type='html'>i decided to start this blog over. at first i was going to erase what i had done before, but it has some relevance to what is going on now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i find myself now 27 years old and starting over. i feel like im 19 all over again, except i have debt and kids. trust me, if you havent hit rock bottom, its a bad feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since about July of last year, life for me has been, well, dramatic. i have gone thru (in this order) physical therapy during my pregnancy, finding out my maternity leave was unpaid, having my hours cut at work, burying my daughters aunt in her 30's from breast cancer, finding out my grandma was ill, having Niecy, losing my job, losing my apartment, leaving my significant other, losing my grandmother, losing my car...did i leave anything out? probably did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daddy said that Life won't give you more than you can handle. REALLY?? he said that God has a way of getting your attention in ways you don't expect, like, or want. REALLY???? well God and Life are really not feeling me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had planned on going back to school this semester. that has now been thrown out the window. still cant find a job after 9 months of searching. no car to drive if i happened to find a job. besides my health (and i cant be 100% sure thats okay, since i had no insurance) i have nothing. just me and the girls...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funny how you can go from something to nothing, overnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-1649796108063756312?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/1649796108063756312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=1649796108063756312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1649796108063756312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/1649796108063756312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-beginnings-or-old-starts.html' title='New beginnings or old starts?'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3433771185735017642</id><published>2008-01-17T18:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T18:34:58.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Four hours of labor and some annoyance</title><content type='html'>yep. it took that long to write again. a lot happened in the past um, six, seven months? Ari turned 7, and not a week before her sister, Nisa, was born. a rather uneventful labor, if you call the epidural deciding to kick in about 25% of the way, normal. just bought a laptop. plan on writing my book with it. you know, the book i have been trying to write for years now. i think im finally broke enough to spill my guts on paper now, and hope its a best seller.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3433771185735017642?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3433771185735017642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3433771185735017642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3433771185735017642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3433771185735017642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2008/01/four-hours-of-labor-and-some-annoyance.html' title='Four hours of labor and some annoyance'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3729568284040953985</id><published>2007-04-20T09:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T10:17:52.241-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='expecting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='failure'/><title type='text'>The Latest Developments</title><content type='html'>yeah, its been a while. ive been known to slack on the entries for weeks at a time if i cant get around to it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the wedding? postponed for now. mainly because its hard being cheerful and happy at a wedding as your morning/afternoon/evening sickness kicks in. yep. im preggers. and in my defense, i had planned said wedding before i got knocked up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets reflect on the pregnancy for a while...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, i had my first child at 19. the situation was nothing less than f'd up. i was young, dumb, naive, blind, the list goes on and on. i was simply immature. i had no business getting myself into that type of situation, but i did. as a result, i have a precocious, intelligent, highly active 6 year old at home. she makes me laugh, she makes me cry. she makes me take mess from people that i normally wouldnt, and stand up to people i never would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my parents were anything but pleased with that development. and now that i am a parent, i completely understand. i didnt expect this pregnancy to be a celebration of sorts, but for my parents to look at it as a way for me to do it right this time. there are no bastards or jail time involved. there are no deplorable conditions in which to rescue me from. there is no verbal abuse or cheating. there is simply me, a regular guy, and regular circumstances. that said, i am still haunted by one thing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever felt that no matter what path you chose, what decisions you make, you just do not add up in someones eyes? that you will never be successful because you didnt choose what other people want for you, and what they assume is/was your "calling"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didnt finish college. i didnt even start it good. why? because i dont know what i want to do. i am also one of those people who thinks that in some occupations, you dont need a degree to be successful. dont get me wrong, if you want an MD after your name, please go to school! i think it is a wonderful opportunity for most people, and a waste of time for others. im also not saying i will never go to school. i simply see no need (if i have a job i love and not a clue what i want to do after this) spending so much time, energy and money on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to tie this all up, i get the distinct feeling that my parents feel i have failed...them, myself, my child, everybody. no matter what i do, no matter what job i get, no matter what i accomplish, or how good i feel about myself, i have still failed. and here i go, bringing another child into the world, with a guy my parents like, but i love. into a situation where things arent perfect, and will never be, but they work. i have enough self esteem to stick to my opinions, but deep down my heart is constantly broken because of my "fear of failure". i think i am amazingly successful, i like what i do, which is more than most people can say, but at the same time i feel like i let everybody else down around me. its an awful, empty feeling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a younger sister who is amazing. she is about to graduate from college, no kids, no debt, nothing. she is in my opinion, near perfect. and my parents know that too. sure, she has a few faults, but nothing worth writing about. she is a parents dream. ive always felt since i had my daughter, that from that point on, i would have to work twice as hard to be as good as her. i know parents shouldnt have favorites, but lets face it, the kid who takes the least work usually has an edge on the others. and trust me, shes got one hell of an edge on me. i know she has always looked up to me in ways, but i think i look up to her more, and wish i had her life to start over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am not upset that i am expecting. i am not upset that i am not married yet. i am not upset that i didnt go to college. i am most satisfied with sticking to my guns about these things. i havent crumbled under the pressure from family and friends. and im not going to. i will instead, put on a stone face, blink back the tears, and try to swallow the knot forming in my throat. nobody needs to know that beneath the steel reserve lies a heart full of tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3729568284040953985?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3729568284040953985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3729568284040953985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3729568284040953985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3729568284040953985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2007/04/latest-developments.html' title='The Latest Developments'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575440304115231345.post-3382342273993620158</id><published>2007-02-05T15:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:27:19.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goin' to the chapel...</title><content type='html'>After much deliberation, crying, praying, begging, mistakes, heartbreaks, etc. etc... im getting hitched!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i decided to start this blog as i embark on one of the newest changes in my life: marriage. i will admit, i was skeptical about this whole "blog" thing. ive kept a diary from the time i was in first grade. i think its amazing to look back and read what was running thru my head at the time. some of my most difficult times were documented in a diary. i usually slack off from time to time, but i always start fresh when something big has happened or is about to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i waited long enough to get hitched. im 26 now, in my prime if i might add, and life hasnt been too bad to me. im actually happy now! i havent always been that way, some of you know the story, i plan on writing a book about/on it, just to share with younger girls about the dangers of...well, a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but anyway, as of this past saturday, we finally picked our cake. (oh, fyi, his name is nel. he's 28, and he's a chef. i know, right? i scored a chef! lol) our date is only 6 weeks away, which means over the next few weeks ive got to crunch in all this extra exercise i should have been doing anyway. nel said he's not joining in. just as well, theres not enough room for two sexy people at the alter...until later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7575440304115231345-3382342273993620158?l=sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/feeds/3382342273993620158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7575440304115231345&amp;postID=3382342273993620158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3382342273993620158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7575440304115231345/posts/default/3382342273993620158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sadiquapgrownup.blogspot.com/2007/02/goin-to-chapel.html' title='Goin&apos; to the chapel...'/><author><name>Sadiqua: Head Mistress, S.O.S. Inc.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06777494042086431723</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1uAyQF5h2aY/SoOayC2jltI/AAAAAAAAAOk/p6n3zxSWHoM/S220/rr4-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
